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I'm writing a seven-part series! One story for each member. The first chapter will be up in a couple of days after I've finished posting "Code Purple" (go check that one out) so please anticipate it! 
TRIGGER WARNING!!!!
This story contains possibly triggering content such as physical and emotional abuse, non-graphic elements of non-con and attempted suicide. Please read at your own risk and remember that abuse is not attractive or romantic and it's not supposed to turn you on. It makes you feel small and worthless and I hope this story conveys that. 
There will be no major character death in this series.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Really hot guy staring at you, 3 o’clock.”Taehyung looked up from his phone as Jimin slid subtly onto the sofa cushions beside him, settling his head on his friend’s thigh so that they could talk at close proximity without looking like they were plotting something evil.“Jimin …” Taehyung chastised.“No, seriously, Tae, you want to look. 3 o’clock.”Sighing in resignation, Taehyung raised his gaze and angled his eyes to the far right. Immediately, the stage hand whipped around and started busying himself with the papers on the dressing table in front of him. It was clear he was trying to act casual but his movements were stiff and forced and his flustered demeanour screamed “caught”.But even as Taehyung watched, his not-so-secret admirer snuck another glance and when the object of his fascination held his gaze, he winked. And Taehyung melted.“Oh my God, you like him,” Jimin jabbed from his lap, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and prodding his dongsaeng in the stomach.If Taehyung weren’t battling his inner urges to cringe into a ball of joyful embarrassment at the attention he was garnering from such a chiselled creature, he would have beaten Jimin’s ass. It had taken him years to finally admit to them that he preferred the anatomy of the opposite sex and they had been nothing but supportive, acting like it didn’t matter and still treating him as their fake maknae.But Jimin had taken it a step further. Jimin had started pointing out every guy who turned Taehyung’s way. It would be arrogant to say that this occurred very often, considering their popularity and Taehyung’s iconic and highly publicised features. He knew that Jimin meant well and was just excited to get his best friend into a relationship that didn’t involve the girls they were forbidden from being seen in public with, but occasionally he wished that the smaller boy would just give it a rest.  Only, this time he didn’t really mind. Because this time, the guy was stunning. And this time, the guy was coming over.“Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Taehyung muttered under his breath, staring down at Jimin with wide, terrified eyes. “Help.”But Jimin just winked at him and vaulted out of his lap with a hiss of “Go get ‘em, tiger,” before he was backing across the room with a smug smirk across his face, leaving Taehyung to the mercy of the shockingly mesmerising face that sank onto the couch beside him.“Hi.”Words. What were words? How did he form them?“Hilo.”Hilo? Hilo? What the fuck, Kim Taehyung? Hilo? “Hilo?” the man before him repeated, perfectly-shaped eyebrow rising towards an immaculately-trimmed hairline.Taehyung wanted to die of embarrassment and melt into a puddle of shame on the sofa cushions but alas, such occurrences were not common in this day and age.“Sorry,” he gasped out, literally able to feel the tips of his ears reddening. “I started to say ‘hi’ and then I changed to ‘hello’ and it came out as … ‘hilo’.” He trailed off to a whisper, wincing at his own stupidity.“Well …” came the voice from beside him. It was smooth. Like chocolate. God, Kim Taehyung! “Hilo to you too. I’m Myungsoo.”He held out his hand and Taehyung took it, unable to shake due to how stunned he was by the broadness of the fingers he clutched in his grip and how he could feel the veins that popped through his almond skin.
Oh, God, I’m in trouble.
“Taehyung,” he finally managed to grind out.“I know.”There was at least five minutes – more like five seconds but it felt like five minutes, Jimin! – where the two of them just stared at each other. It would have been awkward if it weren’t so … not awkward. It was hard to explain but Taehyung felt like this man was reading his soul.“I’m just going to cut to the chase,” the newcomer finally admitted, fully aware that he was holding his victim’s tremoring heart in his two hands. “I want to take you out to dinner.”
Yes. Yes. Yes. A million times yes. Take me to dinner, take me to church, take me to your bed – okay, that went a little too far – just take me anywhere, Korean Jesus.
“Taehyung? I can call you Taehyung, right?”Taehyung finally snapped out of his unblinking reverie, giving himself a mental slap for how creepy and pathetic he must look in his flustered state of sudden onset mutism.“Yes,” he choked out, splitting his face in a nervous grin that he only hoped replicated the ones his fans loved so much.Myungsoo’s mouth twitched at the corners, imprinting dimples into his cheeks as he settled his elbow on the back of the couch and rested his head in his hand. “Was that a ‘yes’ to calling you Taehyung or a ‘yes’ to dinner?”“Yes …” Oh, God, just kill me now. “I mean, ‘yes’ to both. ‘Yes’ to Taehyung and ‘yes’ to dinner.” Just stop talking, you moron. “Okay …” his puppeteer nodded in triumph, sliding a piece of paper onto Taehyung’s lap, his fingers lingering on his thigh and leaving a tingling sensation all over. “Give me a call.”“BTS, we need you on stage in five minutes!”Taehyung turned from the manager yelling in the doorway and rekindled the gaze with this stunning, majestic, godlike … TAEHYUNG! … Myungsoo.“I have to go,” he stuttered and scrambled clumsily off the couch, making a beeline for the door.Jimin intercepted him halfway there, interlocking their arms and pressing his forehead into his friend’s shoulder with his body shaking in silent hysterical laughter.“It was like watching a baby giraffe walk for the first time,” he chortled, bringing his hand up to his squished face when Taehyung shoved him away. But even through his irritation, he couldn’t stop the dazed grin from spreading over his face.“I swear,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “That guy is going to be the death of me.”He should have believed his own prediction. --------------------------------------             Jimin and Jungkook were waiting for him when he came home. Or rather, Jimin was waiting for him and Jungkook was snoring face-down in the couch cushions with his feet hanging over the edge of the armrest.“So …?” Jimin prompted the moment Taehyung had closed the door, leaping up off the floor and clamouring for news, almost bouncing up and down as he waited for his best friend to take off his shoes. “What was it like?”Taehyung smirked at him. “You know you sound like a teenage girl, right?”Jimin hissed at him, waving his hands in impatient dismissal before his stubby little fingers snagged Taehyung’s skinny wrist and he dragged him over to the dining table, away from Jungkook and his drooling.“Seriously, Tae, I haven’t had a date since I was fifteen. Now feed me the cheese.”Taehyung pulled off his beret, dropping it to the table and fiddling with the cashmere in front of him in the hopes it would be a distraction from the giddy grin he was trying not to let slip onto his face. It was not. “Chim, I think I just went on a date with the man who’s going to change my life.”Jimin pulled a face. “Okay, too much cheese.”“Seriously,” Taehyung pushed, giving the Mochi a playful slap on the wrist. “His name’s Kang Myungsoo. I told you that, right?”“You did.”“And I thought I was going to be completely tongue-tied. Like yesterday morning at the recording, I’ve never looked at anybody and been unable to say a single coherent thing but tonight, I just felt so comfortable around him. Do you know what I mean? He loves photography and he told me that he’d take me to his studio sometime and show me how to work all the super-expensive cameras. He walked me right up to the front door because he said he didn’t want me to get attacked by some crazy fans on the way home and … He’s just perfect, Jimin. He’s actually perfect.”He didn’t realise Jimin was staring at him until he had trailed off into a hazy silence, remembering the way fingers had interlocked with his and a strong arm had snaked around his waist, pulling him closer and closer until he could smell expensive cologne and breath mints.“Well, shit,” Jimin whispered softly, cupping his face in his hand and resting his elbow on the table. “You’re whipped. Like head-over-heels, hopelessly-in-love whipped.”Taehyung nodded, smiling with his lips closed rather than exposing his teeth. It was a smile that didn’t just portray happiness but gave off the aura of a lovesick teenager who had just gotten the first taste of their soulmate.“It’s only been one date and I feel like I trust him. Like he understands what my life is like and he’s willing to work around it to be with me and he knows we have to keep it secret because the world doesn’t even know I’m gay yet let alone dating someone. So yeah … I think I’ve found the person who’s going to change my life.”He had no idea how right he was.He had no idea that just a few weeks from now, there would be screams and sirens and blood on the living room floor.He had no idea at all.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It was no less than five minutes after their choreographer announced a break that Taehyung got the call. It was almost like Myungsoo could sense his new love interest was thinking about him and gravitated towards the phone.And the moment Taehyung heard that chocolate voice from the other end of the line, he forgot that he smelled like sweat and was drenched to the core. All he could think about was those perfectly sculpted lips massaging his tongue.“Hey, you.”
Oh, God, how can someone sound so … glossy? 
“Hey, you,” he wheezed back, regretting not taking the time to catch his breath before he answered the ringing. He probably resembled an eighty-year-old smoker with lung cancer.“Whatcha doin’?” It was casual, like he didn’t really care, but Taehyung could practically hear Myungsoo’s smile, seductive and gorgeous and glowing.“Practise,” he shot back, sidling over to the wall so that he wouldn’t have to explain his impromptu phone call with a stage hand from their recording performance. “Where else?”“You sound tired.”“It’s tiring.”
Smooth, Tae.
“Why don’t you take a break? Come over to my place?”
Oh, how he wished he could.
“I can’t,” he sighed, deflating against the wall in his disappointment. “We’re on the last stretch before the comeback and I can’t afford to be skipping out.”He could have sworn he heard the hint of a whine in Myungsoo’s reply. “Oh, come on, Tae.”
He calls me Tae already.
“Just an hour. I’ll pick you up, we’ll go for a beer and you’ll be back renewed and revived.”Taehyung bit his lip. He knew he shouldn’t. He would be in trouble, Hoseok would be mad at him, Namjoon would be asking questions and Jimin would be insufferably smug. It didn’t matter how badly he wanted to see his new ‘friend’, his job always had to come first and foremost.“I’m sorry, Soo,” he started, creating a nickname on the spot to try and soften the harsh blow of rejection. “I really have to stay here.”“Jesus, Taehyung.”That was wrong. That wasn’t Myungsoo. That wasn’t the velvety chocolate drawl that could reduce Taehyung’s usually casual demeanour to a liquified puddle of awkwardness. The voice that had spat his name with so much spite electrifying the telephone lines was cold and icy and bitter. Not how chocolate should be at all.“If you hated the other night so much that you can’t even bear to see me then you should have just said so.”“No!” Taehyung cried, shaking his head frantically even though he knew Myungsoo couldn’t see him. He could not lose this light in his life. Not the first person he had truly connected with since accepting he had the kind of preferences this country frowned upon. “Soo, I loved that date, I swear … I … I want …”He cursed under his breath, whipping his head around to see the others sprawled out around the practise room, chuckling with each other or just stewing in the corner with a protein bar or energy drink in hand. He shouldn’t leave them, he knew he shouldn’t, but this precious gem of a man was slipping out of his grasp and he could not lose him.“I’m coming over right now,” he conceded, already slipping his arms into his jacket sleeves with his phone pinned between his ear and his shoulder.“Brilliant.” The chocolate was back, smoother than ever, and it tasted so sweet to Taehyung’s auditory nerves. “I’m waiting outside with the car. I can’t wait to see you.”Taehyung frowned. “You’re already outside?”But the call had ended. Stowing his phone in his pocket, Tae fired a hurried explanation over his shoulder to his fellow bandmates and choreographer.“I have to go! Back in an hour! I’m sorry!”He tried to make it sound like an emergency, like he had no choice and when there was a collective cry of ‘what’s wrong?’, he knew he’d succeeded. He simply shot an apologetic look back at them, avoiding Jimin altogether, and ducked out the studio door.Any trace of guilt abandoned him – just like he’d abandoned them – when he saw that glowing grin through the driver’s side window. He rounded the sleek black jaguar and slid onto the smooth leather seats. The door had barely closed behind him when Myungsoo leaned over the gearstick to smother his mouth with the smell of breath mints.“You’re beautiful,” he cooed in a whisper, bringing his thumb up to caress the corner of Taehyung’s mouth.“I’m sweaty.”“But still beautiful.”
He’s perfect. He’s literally perfect.
“I only have an hour,” Taehyung breathed back, gazing at those eyes that seemed to sparkle with something unidentifiable and yet incredible all at once. “Then I have to get back.”Myungsoo only smiled, displaying a grid of chiselled teeth so regimented that it looked like they’d been sculpted to specifically fit his mouth.
Jesus Christ, even his teeth are perfect.
“Then we’ll make it one hell of an hour.”  Taehyung’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he hissed a quick apology as he slid it free, glancing down at the screen that bore both Jimin and Hoseok’s names. He sighed, the shame resurfacing at his deceitful desertion, but then Myungsoo was prying the device from his tense fingers.“You don’t need them right now,” he whispered in Taehyung’s ear, combing a stray lock out of his eyes and tilting his face towards him. “You have me.”“I have you,” Taehyung agreed, so invested in those breath-taking eyes that he didn’t even notice the hands that tossed his phone into the backseat, silenced and ignored.“And that’s all you’ll ever need,” Myungsoo continued, fingers dancing over Taehyung’s chin while his tongue snaked out of his mouth to lick his plump lips.“That’s all I’ll ever need.” --------------------------------------------        The moment Taehyung swayed through the door, he was rounded upon by a hoard of concerned faces whipping up at him from the living room couch. Jin was the first on his feet, hurrying forwards and taking his dongsaeng by the elbows, frowning at the way the kid teetered on the spot, face flushed and expression slightly dazed.“Are you okay?”“I’m fine,” Taehyung replied, swatting at the interfering hands on his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I just lost track of time and …”“Have you been drinking?” Namjoon rose from his chair and crossed the room in two strides, sharp eyes instantly recognising the unsteady footsteps and the dilated pupils.And Taehyung knew he’d fucked up spectacularly.“Just a couple of beers,” he admitted, reaching out to take hold of Namjoon’s shirt in the hopes it would assist his pathetic please-forgive-me approach towards avoiding a screaming at. “I’m so sorry. There was … um …”“Were you with that guy?” Hoseok snapped at him from where he was perched on the arm of the couch, expression hard and cold and lethal enough to wither an oak tree. “What did you say his name was, Chim?”Taehyung looked down at Jimin, curled up on the floor with his back to the wall and his hands around his knees, staring up at the latecomer with a face that oozed disappointment and betrayal.“Myungsoo,” he whispered and then Taehyung was the one who felt the harsh bite of treason.“You told them?” he hissed at Jimin, ignoring Jin’s attempt at catching his attention.“I had to!” Jimin shot back. “I was worried. You weren’t answering your phone and I thought he might have run off with you or something!”Taehyung snorted, now shoving Jin aside in his stride towards Jimin who rose to his feet without even a hint of apprehension. “’Run off with me’?”“You’ve only known him five minutes!” Jimin yelled, throwing his hands up in frustration. “You don’t know if he’s some creepy stalker guy with your picture on his bedroom wall or if he’s planning to slip glue into your drink!”Taehyung was spared a furious retort by Namjoon intercepting the confrontation, shoving the kid back towards the middle of the living room and away from Jimin before the situation got out of hand.“Look, Tae,” he said, his tone laced with enforced calm, always the one trying to defuse the bomb before detonation. “I am glad that you’ve found someone – really, I am – but we have an interview tomorrow. We are this close to a comeback and everyone’s stressed enough as it is.”He gestured towards Yoongi and Jungkook who hadn’t said a word nor raised their gazes from the floor. Whenever conflict arose, the two of them preferred to stay silent and let the others handle it. And Hoseok was looking ready to murder.“You can’t just skip out on practise to go and chug a pint of beer with your new love interest.”Taehyung wished he had the right to defend himself but he knew there was no excuse he could conjure up that would spare him the guilt or the punishment he deserved. He honestly hadn’t meant to stay so late but Myungsoo had held him in his arms as they watched the moorhens on the lake and he had felt so safe and so at home that he hadn’t realised the time until it was almost 9:30.“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, head hanging in shame.He heard Hoseok’s tsk of irritation and it only made him feel worse. Hoseok always got snappy and snarky when they were preparing a comeback. As soon as the songs were released, he would go back to sunshine and lollipops but in the meantime, he barely ate, he danced until he was on death’s door and he would yell at the drop of a hat, particularly when it came to messing up choreography. Missing a practise session altogether was the greatest sin that Taehyung could have committed.Still standing in front of him, Namjoon sighed, loud and long and Taehyung didn’t need to look up to see the leader running his hands through his tousled hair, eyes bleary and exhausted.“I think we should go to bed,” came Jin’s contribution from where he probably still stood by the door.Namjoon sucked that long breath back in and gave a hum of approval. “Couldn’t agree more.”Jungkook was the first to rise, speeding towards his bedroom door with his head hung low and his gaze averted from everything and everyone. He hated it when his hyungs fought and he hated it even more that it had always been a policy of theirs to resolve issues together, even if not everyone was involved.Yoongi was next, silent and sombre, and Taehyung caught the look his hyung shot him before he disappeared into his domain of darkness. It wasn’t like any of the others he had seen that night.It wasn’t Hoseok’s anger, Jin’s disapproval, Namjoon’s exhaustion or Jimin’s frustration. It was almost suspicious but not in a bad way. Like he was concerned but unsure whether or not to speak up on it. And before Taehyung could ask, he had vanished.One by one, the others drifted away, grateful for the opportunity to finally close their eyes now that they knew their missing member was not actually missing. Taehyung made sure he was the last to leave. He didn’t want to show any sign of disrespect after the royal fuck up he’d made that day.But once it was just him and Jimin alone in the living room, he couldn’t help the hurtful expression from slipping over his face as he stormed straight to his bedroom, colliding with his hyung’s shoulder on the way.The second he made it to his bed, he pulled out his phone and texted the first number on his contact history. Myungsoo would understand. Myungsoo would tell him it was okay. Myungsoo was all he needed.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The next morning, almost everything was back to normal. There were still a few disapproving stares and withering looks designed to make him even guiltier than he already felt but there was too much work to be done and petty grudges over something that was already in the past went to the bottom of the priority pile.

Taehyung worked flat out, pounding his feet into the dance floor and taking half as many breaks as the others, just to show them that they did and always would come first. His phone remained at the dorm because he knew that the siren’s call was too sweet to resist and only when he was done for the day and holding his mobile screen inches from his face did he allow himself to be lulled into the waters.

Looking back, he knew he should have worn a life jacket.

He didn’t set eyes on Myungsoo in all his picturesque glory, however, until a couple of days after the drunken fiasco when he was scrolling through Twitter with Jungkook in the waiting room while the others were getting their makeup prepared for the TV interview.

It was almost as if that quip smile had some mystical magnetic pull that Taehyung’s eyes were naturally drawn to. He felt it and so he looked up and Myungsoo was standing in the doorway, talking with another stagehand. Except he wasn’t talking. He was staring straight at Taehyung.

They communicated with eyes alone and when Jin flopped down on the sofa to peer over Jungkook’s shoulder, it gave Taehyung the perfect excuse to slip away.

It was fine. They still had ten minutes before they needed to be ready. That was plenty of time, just to say hello. That was all they were going to do. Just say hello.

The moment they were free of prying eyes, Myungsoo wrapped his long fingers around Taehyung’s bony wrist and dragged him, grinning giddily, into the nearest supply closet.

“I missed you,” he poked, pressing Taehyung up against the wall and placing a hand either side of his head so that their noses were inches apart.

“I missed you more.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Prove it.”

Taehyung quirked an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth twitching in amusement as he considered his options. He didn’t have to consider long. His fingers slid into Myungsoo’s hair, massaging his scalp through his lustrous locks, and their lips collided in a way that would have looked brutal but felt amazing.

And they kissed and they laughed and they commented on each other’s techniques as their tongues sparred and their teeth clashed, only adding to the hilarity.

Taehyung wished he could spend eternity within those four walls, body intertwined with the only person he’d ever met who seemed to understand him, perfectly and completely. He could feel each individual curve of Myungsoo’s body under his T-Shirt, could smell the cologne and taste the breath mints.

He decided he liked cologne and breath mints.

It was the definition of seven minutes in heaven. The only problem was that there had only been ten minutes to begin with, and now he needed to descend into reality.

“Soo,” he mumbled into his boyfriend’s –

oh, God, that’s what we are now

– shoulder. “I have to go.”

“We have three more minutes,” Myungsoo moaned back between the kisses he was planting in Taehyung’s neck. “Stay a little longer.”

“I wish, but duty calls.”

He braced his palms on Myungsoo’s shoulders, pushing gently in an attempt to pry those hands from their oh-so-wanted wandering. Except Myungsoo didn’t let go. If anything, he held on tighter, suckering his mouth on Taehyung’s and digging his fingernails into the skin of his neck.

“Soo …” Taehyung grunted, pushing a little harder with no effect. “Soo, I said I have to go.”

“Just a little longer.”

“Myungsoo, I said stop!”

Taehyung hadn’t meant to shove him that hard but his instincts had started screaming at him.

This is wrong! Make it stop! It’s not right!

And he had reacted without thinking, planting his hands in Myungsoo’s chest and pushing with everything he had, anything to get him off.

Myungsoo staggered backwards, losing his balance and throwing his arms out to catch himself on the shelves he crashed into. Taehyung’s eyes widened and before he knew it, he was stumbling forwards, uttering apology after apology to try and stem the faucet of guilt in his gut.

“Soo, are you okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean …”

That was the first time Myungsoo hit him. A flat palm straight to the cheek, burning white hot and stinging like a thousand needles pricking his already-inflamed skin.

It was more the shock than the pain that knocked Taehyung off his feet. His backside hit the floor with a thump and his hand instinctively shot to the assaulted area, fingers caressing the place that burned.

And it was more the betrayal than the pain that had tears formulating watering wells in his eyes as he stared up at Myungsoo with confusion in his expression. His lips ghosted over the outline of various words but none of them seemed appropriate. None of them seemed like they would get him out of another slap.

So Myungsoo spoke first.

“I said just a little longer.”

His tone quivered, but it wasn’t the kind of quiver that it should have been in this situation. It wasn’t guilt or shock or horror. It was anger. Pure, undiluted, apoplectic rage that had Taehyung scooting backwards on the floor just so he could put as much distance between him and this seething monster as he could.

He finally found the sense to scramble to his feet, hand still cupping his smarting cheek as he lunged for the door and wrenched it open. He heard Myungsoo calling out his name, all traces of anger gone to be replaced with regret and sorrow, but he didn’t listen. He just ran.

Myungsoo had hit him. Myungsoo had

hit

him. And not the kind of hit that Jungkook gave him when he was too annoying or Jin dolled out when he was being disrespectful. The kind of hit that was intended to elicit pain. That was intended to punish.

Taehyung burst into the waiting room, furiously fighting back the tears so that no one would see. If they saw, they would say ‘I told you so’ and he didn’t think he could bear that.

But they were all too busy to even notice his arrival. There were makeup artists and hair stylists fussing over each member, combing their fringes and applying blush to their cheeks. Their manager was calling out various orders over the sound of the kafuffle and yelling furious questions. Included in those were “Where the fuck is Taehyung?”

“I’m here …” Taehyung called out, the tremor in his voice going unnoticed in everybody’s relief that he had finally revealed his position.

He barely even heard the manager’s scolding as the makeup artist dragged him into a chair and immediately started working with his flushed face and his puffy eyes. He felt numb, as though he were hovering in a universe of disbelief and denial.

Myungsoo must have had a lot on his mind. He provoked him. That was what it was. He had been rude and disrespectful and then he had pushed him so, of course, Myungsoo had acted on impulse. And if Taehyung hadn’t overreacted and run off like that, he probably would have apologised and kissed it all better. He wasn’t a violent person. He was too good for that. He wasn’t a violent person.

“What happened to your face?”

Taehyung’s head snapped to the side and he quickly apologised when the stylist gave a hiss of irritation as he disturbed her work. Yoongi was in the chair beside him, eyes narrowed ever so slightly and filled with a don’t-you-dare-lie-to-me aura.

But Taehyung couldn’t tell him. He needed time to talk to Myungsoo and to apologise for how he’d reacted and if he told Yoongi – overprotective Daegu-born-and-raised Yoongi – he could kiss goodbye to perfect, chocolate-voiced Myungsoo with his expensive cologne and breath mint smell.

“I …”

Lie. You have to lie. I know you don’t like lying to them but you have to. For you and Myungsoo.

“I didn’t realise I was late and I bumped into a wall running back in here.”

That’s the best you could do?

Yoongi didn’t buy it. He nodded his head and turned away from Taehyung but it was blindingly obvious that he didn’t believe him for a second. Yoongi was impossible to lie to. He always had been and he always would be and Taehyung had forever been the world’s worst liar.

He couldn’t have been more ashamed of how good he became over the following weeks.

He thanked his acting career for his ability to smile and joke through the interview. The others were too invested in answering the MC’s questions without giving away too many comeback spoilers to notice the tension poisoning his posture or the brutal way he twisted his fingers in his lap, concealed behind Hoseok’s head.

And he was too distracted by keeping his own composure, trying not to burst into tears in front of the cameras, to see the way Yoongi kept shooting him side glances. He was checking on him, not just his self-bone-breaking activity but his mental stability.

Yoongi saw the way Taehyung’s bottom lip trembled ever so slightly when the routine interrogation of their love lives surfaced for the millionth time in their careers. And Yoongi saw the way the light in Taehyung’s eyes was growing dimmer and dimmer by the minute.

And Yoongi was there the exact moment that it died.

Taehyung had expected his hyung pull him aside immediately after the interview, questioning the true meaning behind the handprint-shaped blemish on his cheek. The slap had felt brutal but its watermark had already faded, not even a hint of a bruise, and clearly that was enough for Yoongi to deem the situation under control.

Instead, they returned to the dorm with not a word said between them on the subject, investing their attention in other things such as how badly Namjoon had embarrassed himself when he’d forgotten the MC’s name.

Taehyung’s phone kept buzzing, electrocuting his thigh with its rhythmic vibrations, and he didn’t need to look to know who it was trying so desperately to contact him. Hoseok was giving him odd glances when he clearly showed no intention of answering the calls and texts but other than that, it went unnoticed.

When he burrowed under his covers that night, the only thing Taehyung could think about was the burning sensation of flesh on his face. It was like those things you saw on TV, textbook abusive relationship but Myungsoo couldn’t be like that. He was too polite, too handsome, too … too … perfect. And people changed, right? People could get help to deal with their tempers. It would be fine. They were going to be fine.

But in order to make that step, he had to stop ignoring him.

In the morning,

he told himself, rolling away from his phone on the bedside table and facing the wall instead.

Contact him in the morning. And everything will be fine. It was a one time thing. Everything will be fine.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Seventeen missed calls. Twenty-four texts. Too many voicemails.
“Tae … I’m so sorry about yesterday … Are you alright?”

“Baby, just tell me you’re alright. You don’t have to call, just send me a text. I need to know you’re okay.”

“I didn’t sleep a wink last night. I feel so guilty, Tae. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I’m sitting in my car outside your dorm, baby. If you want to see me then just come out. If you don’t, that’s okay. I’ll be here until 9am and if you don’t show up before then, I’ll know we’re over. Just … Just give me a chance to apologise properly.”
Taehyung had barely opened his eyes and already he was faced with the harsh reality of yesterday’s events. He groaned softly, digging at the sleepy dust in the corners of his eyes and played the last message one more time.
“I’m sitting in my car outside your dorm, baby. If you want to see me then just come out. If you don’t, that’s okay. I’ll be here until 9am and if you don’t show up before then, I’ll know we’re over. Just … Just give me a chance to apologise properly.”
He was outside and had been all night, just sitting in his car and waiting for Taehyung’s forgiveness. And Taehyung wanted to give it. He just wanted them to go back to that ideal couple who made out in storage closets and called each other ‘baby’. All he had to do was go outside and they could be those people again.His dressing gown engulfed his body and yet it still did nothing to combat the cold he stepped into that nipped at his face and snapped at his toes. He should have worn slippers. His numb feet pattered down the pathway, keeping a close eye on the road ahead in case he stepped on a snail or a stone.The moment Myungsoo looked out through the windshield and saw him, he was scrambling out of the car with apologetic desperation written all over his face.Taehyung opened his mouth, intending to initiate the start of the apology war but Myungsoo beat him to it.The man threw himself on his knees in front of Taehyung, reaching up and grabbing hold of the startled boy’s hands and clasping them between his own, rubbing warmth into the frozen extremities.“Myungsoo …” Taehyung started with no idea how he would finish. Myungsoo was staring up at him with a kind of worshipping awe about his sculpted features, as though Taehyung were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.“I’m so sorry, Taehyung,” he implored, eyes swimming with honesty and a plea to understand his sincerity. “I don’t know what got into me yesterday. It will never happen again. I swear to you, baby, it will never happen again.”Taehyung stooped down, taking the kneeling man by his elbows and gently raising him to his feet. Myungsoo was taller, by about two inches, and although such a trait had caused Taehyung to fear for his life in the storage closet yesterday, it now made him feel safe and protected.“You swear?” he whispered, bringing his hands up to rest them against Myungsoo’s chest. He could feel the muscles underneath the thin T-Shirt and it had his heart racing.The forgiven man looked like he had been granted the gift of eternal life. He cupped Taehyung’s frozen cheeks in his hands, their lips meeting, and not once did Taehyung think about the last time Myungsoo’s fingers had been on his face.“I swear, baby. I swear on my life. I will never hurt you again.”Taehyung drew back, the first smile of the day curving his lips as he took Myungsoo’s hand and started gently tugging him back up the pathway.“Come inside,” he said, wincing as his bare feet scraped on the cobbles and pebbles. “It’s freezing and I really want some breakfast.”Myungsoo grinned back at him, picking up the pace so they could walk side by side, fingers laced together and eyes fixated on one another. “I make excellent French toast.”“I can’t wait.”Taehyung slid through the front door, scuffing his grubby feet on the mat without relinquishing hold of Myungsoo’s hand. He didn’t want to ever break the contact they now held. It was so trusting and warm and forgiving and it felt as though yesterday had never happened.  --------------------------------------“Am I doing it right?”“Absolutely not. Have you ever seen French toast before?”“I’m Korean!”“So am I! Hey, look at me. You have a bit of syrup on your nose.”“Oh, hang on, I’ll get a … Or you could just lick it off, that’s absolutely fine and not at all weird.”“You don’t think it’s romantic?”“Can’t it be weird and romantic?”Taehyung’s sugary euphoria was abruptly interrupted by the bemused arrival of a sleepy-looking Seokjin who stood in the doorway, hair askew and face swollen as his groggy mind tried to process why there were two grown men – one a complete stranger – pressed up against each other next to the fridge.“Care to explain?” he deadpanned, too tired to come up with some witty remark.“Hyung!” Taehyung jumped, slipping out of Myungsoo’s arms to grab Jin’s hand and pull him over to the stove. “Help me with the French toast. I suck at it.”“With the what?”“French toast. It’s some American thing, except it’s called French toast. I don’t know. I don’t really get it.”Jin hummed, nodding his head to at least give the impression that he understood what the hell was going on. “Sure …” Then he looked up at Myungsoo with one eyebrow raised and a nonchalant expression on his face. “Now who the hell are you and what are you doing frying bread in my house with my brother?”“Myungsoo,” Myungsoo introduced himself, sticking out a hand and beaming brightly, but when Jin shook the extended digit with a look of bewilderment on his face, Myungsoo’s smile dimmed and there was a flash of something Jin could have sworn was anger in his eyes before he asked, “Has Tae not mentioned me?”“Of course I have,” Taehyung piped up from where he was trying to extract the breakfast from the frying pan, too distracted to notice the tension in his boyfriend’s shoulders.“Yeah, yeah,” Jin agreed, finally overcoming his surprise that his dongsaeng had brought his boyfriend over so quickly after they’d got together. It was the whole meet-the-parents thing and Taehyung clearly hadn’t been worried in the slightest. “I just didn’t expect to meet you so soon. But it’s good to finally put a face to the name.”“Same with you,” Myungsoo grinned, any hint of that anger a distant memory. “And yours is a pretty handsome face if I’m allowed to say so.”Jin snorted, his head whipping towards Taehyung who just rolled his eyes and resumed his French toast consumption. The eldest took a moment to recover his composure at being called handsome by a man he had only just met before he finally concluded he liked the broad figure stood in front of him.“You can stay,” he said, granting both his permission and his blessing in just three words. “Tae, never let him go.”Both Taehyung and Myungsoo looked like the sun was shining just on them with the way their eyes brightened and the taller puckered his lips against the singer’s, his arms wrapped around Tae’s waist from behind.One by one, the others stumbled into the kitchen, drawn from their respective slumbers by the smell of cinnamon and syrup and one by one, each of them succumbed to Myungsoo’s phenomenal ability to make anybody laugh.He caused Hoseok to smile for the first time in days, had Jimin in hysterics with just one joke and was even discussing politics with Namjoon as they washed the dishes.Taehyung had noticed Jungkook not quite participating in the morning jubilation from where he was bowed over his cereal bowl. Granted, he laughed and grinned when everyone else did and there was no reason to believe his reactions were forced but he didn’t exactly contribute to the conversation.  But when Yoongi walked in, Taehyung was positively certain that his hyung loathed Myungsoo. From the moment he set eyes on the tall beauty, his mouth hardened into a painfully straight line and he raked his fringe out of his eyes with unnecessary ferocity.Yoongi had never been a morning person and particularly with the stress he was under, his early moods were decreasing in quality, but today he didn’t even speak. He just grunted as Jin handed him his portion of French toast, prodding at the soggy crumbs before pushing it across the table, away from him.He was eyeing Myungsoo, sizing him up, deciding whether or not he was dangerous. He could see the muscles outlined under the T-Shirt the man wore, a garment that was deliberately too small just to show off his physique. That meant he was strong. And arrogant. Strong enough to pin Taehyung to a bed and arrogant enough to think he could get away with it.His hands were huge. If tightened to fists, they could do some real, serious, irreversible, lethal damage. But if his suspicions were correct, this guy didn’t need to use his knuckles to inflict pain when he wanted. Those palms looked perfectly capable of leaving a decent-sized scarlet splodge on a kid’s cheek.  And Yoongi did not like the way Myungsoo was holding Tae. To everyone else, it appeared perfectly harmless, even cute, the way his tree-branch arms ensnared the skinny torso, his chiselled chin resting on his boyfriend’s shoulder.But Yoongi saw the fingers that occasionally copped a feel slightly higher – or lower – than they should. He saw the strength with which those arms imprisoned his dongsaeng in their fleshy cage and he could recognise it from a mile way: possessiveness. Dangerously possessive. The kind of possessive that was willing to kill.He didn’t want Tae anywhere near a man like that.“We should head to the studio,” he cut across Jin’s windshield-wiper laugh, pushing out of his chair and depositing his uneaten food in the trash.“It’s only 8, hyung,” Namjoon said without looking up from his emails. “We have at least half an hour before we have to leave.”Yoongi met Myungsoo’s eye over Taehyung’s shoulder and there was a moment of silent understanding between them. Now both knew that neither of them liked the other and the battle over Tae had begun.“The comeback is tomorrow,” Yoongi snapped, not quite coldly enough to elicit an air of awkwardness but ensuring that the others knew he wasn’t messing around. “We really should get in all the practise that we can.”Jimin gave a weary sigh but heaved himself to his feet nonetheless. “He’s right. I can never get those four beats in the middle to match the music properly.”On any other given day, Yoongi would have shot that down immediately, telling Jimin that his dancing always had been and always would be flawless and he really didn’t need to work himself to the bone just to reach what he considered perfection. But today, when he wanted more than anything to get them all to that studio, he stayed silent.Myungsoo was watching him, not obviously but diligently, as the others gathered their things together, grumbling various curses about exhaustion or stress. Yoongi didn’t grant him the satisfaction of knowing his intimidation was working. He glared right back at that ugly – he had nothing on Tae or Jin – giant without a hint of fear or apprehension. He wasn’t afraid of him and he wasn’t afraid of letting him know that.But this intruder had already won over every other person in their group and if he made a scene now, he would be outnumbered and the only conclusion would be an ugly and grotesque fight. And they could not afford to fall apart this close to a comeback.Instead, Yoongi took the house keys from Jin and made positively certain that he was the last one to leave, not giving Myungsoo a single second to be alone with Taehyung or with their belongings. He secured the door twice, locking, unlocking and then re-locking it just to be sure. And when Myungsoo looked like he was going to ask Taehyung to ride in his car with him, Yoongi took his dongsaeng’s arm and pulled him wordlessly into their company vehicle. He didn’t give these twisted lovebirds a chance to say goodbye.He and Tae stuffed themselves in the back of the car with the others upfront and it was then that Yoongi decided he had to say something. “Tae?” he started and Taehyung popped his earbud out, looking up at his hyung with a intrigued eyebrow arching towards his scruffy hairline.“Yeah?”Yoongi paused. Words had to be chosen carefully and that was something he’d never been very good at. He just sat there, opening and shutting his mouth like a goldfish while Taehyung stared at him, patiently awaiting his reply.“You’d tell me if you were ever in trouble, wouldn’t you?” Yoongi finally settled on. “I mean, you wouldn’t try to hide it because you thought you might get someone reprimanded or if you were embarrassed or scared or … something.”He trailed off before he said something that sounded too out of place for his usually indifferent and non-touchy-feely persona.He had to fight not to break eye contact and make some snarky joke about being all fluffy and soft but he did notice the way Taehyung’s innocently curious expression hardened into a blank mask and he was reminded that Taehyung was an actor. Pretending, hiding, lying … it was all his forte.“Why … do you ask?” Taehyung queried, busying himself with his Spotify playlist even though he was only scrolling up and down, just trying to look like he was disinterested.That was all the proof Yoongi needed. And he wanted to be sick.“Just … just know that I’d never be mad at you or judge you if you ended up in a … situation that you didn’t want to be in and …” God, this was tough. “You’d always call me if you needed help, right?”Taehyung gave a curt hum of agreement without raising his gaze from his phone, a clear indication that he was not in the mood to continue on this subject. Yoongi left it at that. He was already pushing the boundaries and now that he knew for certain that something was definitely not right in his little brother’s new extracurricular activities, he needed to maintain their friendship. In case something ever happened.But nothing would happen. He would catch Myungsoo doing something inappropriate enough and he would kick him out of their lives for good. Touch wood. Nothing would happen.It turns out that touching wood doesn’t work.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“So you like him, right?” Taehyung asked tentatively as he and Namjoon slumped against the dance studio mirror, water bottles pressed to their sweaty foreheads and free hands using their T-Shirts to fan their chests.

Namjoon smirked, reaching over to whack Taehyung on the head with his bottle. “I like him, Tae. Just like I liked him when you asked me in the car, just like I liked him when you asked me twenty minutes ago. I like him.”

Taehyung beamed, exhaustion forgotten in his euphoria. His hyungs liked his boyfriend. And Jungkook had been cracking jokes with Myungsoo by the time they parted ways so they could head to practise. Yoongi had always been difficult when it came to meeting new people. Given time, Taehyung hoped his hyung would see just how happy Myungsoo made him and would get over whatever protective instincts were making him act so cold and suspicious.

His phone gave a cheerful chirp and he fished it out of his bag to see a photograph of a dinner table, set to geometric perfection and complete with a rose settled across each fancy china plate and two candles towering in their waxy majesty over the tablecloth.

The caption below read:

Tell me when you get off. Dinner’s in the oven,

and Taehyung found himself wondering, not for the first time that day, what he had done to deserve this man in his life.

When it had finally clicked in his confused teenage brain that girls were not his type, he had thought he was going to die alone. Homosexuality was practically a crime in his country and he had spent many a night crying himself to sleep in his grandmother’s arms, wailing about how he had desperately wanted a partner to help him raise his children.

And by the time she died, he had already accepted he was fated never to fall in love. But then there was Myungsoo who knew exactly what he was doing and how to do it and Taehyung was learning from him with every passing day. So Myungsoo had to stay.

He couldn’t call him perfect anymore – not after the closet – but he was so close. One slip-up didn’t warrant a grudge held against him for the rest of his life and if Myungsoo could be patient and apologetic and amazing at cooking American breakfast dishes, then Taehyung could forgive him for a moment of madness. Anything to smell cologne and breath mints every time he inhaled.

As though there were some God smiling down on him, granting him every heart’s desire, Sejin abruptly rose from the corner of the room, clapping his hands together to garner the attention of his idols from their various positions slumped around the room.

“You’ve worked hard, guys,” he called out and Jin gave a lethargic ‘here, here’ from his place flat on his back in the middle of the floor. “Go home and get a good a night’s sleep as you can. And remember tomorrow, no going online. You’ll only work yourselves up into a state. We’ll post the music video at 10am on the dot and I want you all as far away from the internet as possible. Have I made myself clear?”

There was a weak chorus of “yes, sir” before everybody was heaving themselves to their feet, grateful to be discharged earlier than usual. Taehyung felt like Christmas had come prematurely as he texted Myungsoo with his fingers tingling in excitement.

To:
Soo-Soo

Just got let out. Be there in 20

He almost swooned when, not even ten seconds later, he got the reply.

From:
Soo-Soo

I’ll come get you. You deserve a rest.

“Is that Myungsoo?” came Jimin’s squawk as he slid across the polished floor to invade Taehyung’s personal space.

“Honestly, how do you have so much energy?” Taehyung chastised but even though he tried to hold the phone out of his hyung’s reach, Jimin snatched the device and hollered the new gossip to the rest of the room.

“Tae’s going on a date!”

Taehyung snatched the phone back and shot Jimin the middle finger, cracking a cocky smile before ducking out of the door to escape the hollers and wolf-whistles from the others.

The elevator doors pinged open and he leapt out into the lobby only to sputter to a stunned stop.

Yoongi and Myungsoo were standing in the middle of the foyer. There was no indication of anything violent. They weren’t yelling, their fists weren’t clenched, they weren’t lunging for each other with snarls of fury on their faces, but their body language screamed ‘confrontation’.

They were staring at one another with a kind of coldness that would have withered Taehyung on the spot. Myungsoo stood at least a head taller than Yoongi but that didn’t appear to affect the way the idol seemed to be getting to the stagehand. Myungsoo was getting antsy, his top lip starting to curl upwards and his eyes already narrowed to thin slits.

He wouldn’t hit Yoongi, would he? He wasn’t like that. Yes, he’d made a mistake but he’d been so sorry afterwards and he promised it wouldn’t happen again. So there was no way he would hit Yoongi. Right?

Taehyung sped forwards and threw his arm casually over Yoongi’s shoulders, forcing an innocent smile over his face in the hope that it would diffuse whatever situation was going on here.

“What are you talking about?”

There were several long seconds where neither of them spoke, refusing to break the icy eye contact they had with each other, and Taehyung was just starting to wonder whether there was going to be a full on fist fight when Yoongi finally broke the silence.

“Nothing.”

At last, he abandoned that crushing hold with Myungsoo’s gaze and turned to Taehyung, squeezing his shoulder with a tightness that seemed a little unnecessary for a simple ‘I’ll see you tonight’.

“I have my phone, remember?” he muttered before he threw one last glowering glare at Myungsoo and stormed off.

“What was that?” Taehyung asked, unsure whether he was worried or just a little confused.

Myungsoo’s face melted into that chocolatey smile and he brushed his lips against his smaller counterpart. “Don’t worry about it, baby,” he whispered but Taehyung had already forgotten what he was supposed to not worry about. “Come on, there’s a chicken in the oven with your name on it.”
 
--------------------------------
 
 
   
“Oh my God, how do you make something taste so good?” Taehyung moaned as he sunk his teeth into the succulent white chicken meat, the juices melting on his tongue and the flavour exploding in his mouth.

Myungsoo watched him with a triumphant smirk and leaned across the table to swipe a trace of gravy off his boyfriend’s chin. “I can teach you if you want?”

“No,” Taehyung mumbled through a mouthful of potato. “I suck at cooking. So you have to come over to ours and teach Jin-hyung. You two could have a competition.”

His head rose in bemusement when Myungsoo muttered, just loud enough for him to hear, “I don’t think that’ll be happening.”

“Why?”

Myungsoo looked up at him, a shadow of surprise crossing over his face before he broke into that signature grin of his and shook his head, resting his elbows on the table so that his nose was even closer to the candlelight, illuminating his already movie-like features.

“Don’t worry about it, Tae.”

“No, come on, tell me,” Taehyung pushed, setting his cutlery down to prove he was serious about wanting to know. “Why can’t you come over?”

Myungsoo sighed, a conflicted expression twisted into his face, but when he met Taehyung’s eyes, he finally conceded.

“It’s just your bandmate … Yoonji, is it?”

“Yoongi.”

“That’s it. He … Well, he … No, it doesn’t matter. You don’t need to be worrying about this with everything you’ve got going on.”

Now Taehyung was desperate to know. What had Yoongi said that’d had such a profound effect on this man Taehyung had thought was untouchable?

“Seriously, tell me.”

“He … He told me to stay away from you,” Myungsoo admitted, grimacing and lowering his gaze to his empty plate.

Taehyung scoffed, eyebrows rocketing towards his hairline. “That’s what’s got you all worked up? Soo, baby, Yoongi-hyung’s just not very good with new people and he’s always been super overprotective of all of us. Give him time to get to know you and then you’ll see he’s actually much softer than he looks.”

But the words he had intended to bring Myungsoo comfort only seemed to further the inner turmoil within him.

“I don’t know, Tae,” he said, tone flavoured with doubt. “He kind of threatened me.”

Now that wasn’t okay.

“What?”

“Yeah,” Myungsoo nodded and he looked so torn that Taehyung instinctively reached across the table to take his hand, silently reminding him that it was safe to go on. “He said that if I didn’t stop seeing you, he was going to get BigHit to fire me. It’s stupid I know but …”

“No!” Taehyung interrupted, a little more forcefully than he’d intended. “No, it’s not stupid. It’s wrong. He had no right to … God, I’m going to kill him.”

He was actually halfway to his feet when Myungsoo was up and circling the table, taking his hands and leading him to the sofa in the living room. They sat down side by side, fingers still entwined, as Taehyung finally forced himself to look his boyfriend in the eye.

“You said so yourself,” Myungsoo soothed, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the back of Taehyung’s hand. “He’s just being protective. And I don’t care if he doesn’t approve of our relationship. I really, really, really like you, Tae, and if that means I have to fight your hyung to be with you then that’s what I’m going to do.”

Taehyung deflated, his heart softening at the cliché but beautifully romantic confession. “You shouldn’t have to fight him at all. I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him he can’t choose who I do and don’t see.”

“I like it when you show your spunk,” Myungsoo smirked, bringing one of his hands up to cup Taehyung’s cheek, his eyes swimming with fondness. “It’s very attractive.”

“No one’s going to stop me from showing you just how attractive I can be,” Taehyung responded, edging even closer on the cushions so that one of his legs was hooked over Myungsoo’s lap and their noses were barely an inch apart. “Not even my Daegu hyung.”

“I’m from Daegu too, you know?”

“Really?”

“You bet. So I guess you don’t need your Daegu hyung now that you’ve got a Daegu boyfriend.”

Taehyung hesitated. Was Myungsoo suggesting he cut Yoongi out of his life? Not only did he not want to but that would be exceedingly difficult considering how they lived together, worked together, did practically every little thing together. Sure, he was absolutely furious but …

“Right?” Myungsoo pushed, drawing back slightly so that Taehyung could see his entire face, narrowed eyes awaiting an answer. “Right?”

“Right,” Taehyung responded at once.

“Because I’m the only one you need.”

“Of course. You’re the only one I need.”

Myungsoo smiled again, pressing his lips into Taehyung’s forehead before unfurling himself from their little couch cuddle and rising to his feet, holding out his hand for his boyfriend to take.

“Come on,” he beckoned. “I’ll drive you home. Wouldn’t want to give Yoongi another reason to hate me now, would we?”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Taehyung was still smiling softly to himself when he kicked his shoes off in the hallway – Jimin would yell at him for not putting them away but he didn’t care – and closed the front door behind him. He technically should have walked over the threshold twenty minutes ago but Myungsoo had wanted to … say goodbye properly.

It was late so he was expecting the others to all be lying flat on their backs in their beds, staring at the ceiling and trying desperately not to think about the anxiety tomorrow would bring them. Therefore, he was surprised to see Yoongi, of all people, laid out on the couch, his laptop resting on his stomach and his face illuminated in the ghostly electronic light.

Taehyung hated that he resented his hyung but at the same time, he couldn’t deny the feeling of betrayal. Yoongi had tried to sabotage his relationship and once he had gotten some sleep and the album was officially posted, they would be having a very ugly conversation.

So he intended to make a beeline straight for his room but at the sound of the door closing, Yoongi had shut his laptop and peered at him from across the living room, weary eyes blinking lazily.

“How’d it go?” he murmured, rubbing his fingers in his eye socket.

Taehyung tried to ignore him – he really tried – but seeing Yoongi so casually intruding into his personal life without a single shred of guilt in his system, drove him to breaking point. It was his relationship, his boyfriend, and therefore it was his job to protect it at all costs.

“You know what?” he spat at his hyung, indifferent to his disrespectful words. “I can’t believe you. I really can’t.”

Yoongi stared at him, one eyebrow arched in bewildered bemusement and he relocated his laptop to the table. “Did I do something?”

Taehyung was so paralysed with disbelief that he could barely draw breath. “Did you do something? Did you

do

something?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“You know exactly what you did!”

By now, Yoongi had realised this was not a humorous situation and heaved himself into a sitting position, brow furrowed. “I can assure you, Tae, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

Taehyung was on the verge of screaming, an action he only refrained from taking because he knew that somebody was bound to be asleep and if he woke them, he would be in for a world of pain. So instead, he converted his fury into a deadly hiss, jabbing his finger at Yoongi’s chest with as much venom as he could lace his tone with.

“Stay the fuck out of my relationship, you interfering, manipulative …”

“Hang on a second,” Yoongi interrupted, rising to his feet and holding up his hands, expression thunderous. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to. I am still your hyung despite what I might have done.”

“And you deserve absolutely no respect!” Taehyung spat, saliva actually flying from the tip of his tongue in his uncontainable ferocity.

“Taehyung!” Yoongi shouted, getting far too close to the edge himself. “You are going to have to tell me what this is about because I genuinely have no idea.”

“You threatened my boyfriend!” Taehyung screeched at him, feeling as if he was about to blow a blood vessel and bleed out on the living room carpet. “You told him you’d get him fired! You had no right! I understand that you’re insecure and damaged and unable to survive without attention but that does not mean you get to ruin the best thing that has ever happened to me!”

He finished by giving the sofa a brutal kick, a decision he then regretted as it meant he had to hide the fact that it really hurt his toe. He glowered at Yoongi who was standing stock still, staring at him with eyes that were wide and confused and, if Taehyung didn’t know better, deeply offended.

Looking back, Taehyung realised how fragile the nerve he had struck was and the guilt he harboured almost consumed him but at the time, his anger blinded him to his hyung’s emotional vulnerability.

“Tae …” Yoongi choked, voice quivering and hands trembling at his sides. “I told Myungsoo not to hurt you but I never threatened his job, or him for that matter.”

Taehyung gave a snort of contemptuous mirth, too angry to be disgusted by his own behaviour. “Don’t you dare lie to me, hyung. He told me what you said.”

“And you believe him over me?” Yoongi whispered, barely even audible now. “When did you start believing people you’ve barely known for two weeks over me?”

“Since you started interfering with my private life!”

“I know he hit you, Tae.”

Taehyung never knew such simple words could crush the air from his lungs and render him completely and utterly speechless. He tried to deny the accusation but the only sound that came from his throat was a strangled gurgle before his brain remembered how to form syllables.

“I … I … No! Absolutely not! He … He would never … I can’t believe you would even … Fuck you!”

And with that, he stormed into his room and slammed the door as forcefully as he could, pressing his back up against it and breathing heavily.

He had just given himself away. He knew it and Yoongi knew it and now the others would know it too. They would only see the one moment where Myungsoo wasn’t the man of his dreams, the one moment where he had succumbed to human instinct and made a mistake. They wouldn’t see the man he really was: the man whose cooking was to die for and whose kisses made him feel so immeasurably cared for.

They would try to take him away from all of that. From the first person he had ever experienced love with. Myungsoo made him feel safer than he had ever felt before; he was his own private miracle who massaged his shoulders after practise and smothered him with cuddles that swallowed him whole.

He wasn’t going to let them do that. He was a full grown man, perfectly capable of making his own life choices and if they didn’t like that then they could go and stuff themselves because they had no say over the decisions he made regarding his love life.

There was a nervous knock from the other side of the door, the wood gently vibrating against his back. Only then did he realise his eyes were starting to well and he swiped at them furiously, refusing to let whoever it was on the other side of that door see him cry.

“Hyung?”

Jungkook. It was Jungkook. Just the person he hadn’t known he desperately needed right now.

He opened the door and the second he saw those tentative Bambi eyes staring back at him, filled with concern and care, he deflated like a balloon and succumbed to his tears. Jungkook stepped forwards at once, taking his hyung by the elbows and leading him over to the bed so they could sit side by side.

Taehyung buried his face in his arms, relishing in the feel of Jungkook’s hand rubbing against his back. They sat there in silence until the elder had finally gathered his wits about him and stopped his mindless tears.

“I heard yelling,” Jungkook started. “Are you alright?”

Taehyung let out a huff of exhaustion. “I had a fight with Yoongi-hyung.”

He stared at the opposite wall, listening to Jungkook’s hum of sympathetic understanding.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Did he want to talk about it? Did he really want to discuss his homosexual relationship with this straight kid he had spent years coddling and mummifying in bubble wrap so much so that he couldn’t even look a girl in the eye.

“He threatened Myungsoo,” he admitted, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Yoongi-hyung told my boyfriend that if he didn’t stop seeing me, he would get him fired. He had no right to do that and it makes me so fucking mad that he thought he could. I mean, I get that he had a really unhealthy relationship when he was at school but that doesn’t mean that every single person who asks you on a date is only using you for your body.”

Well, apparently he did want to talk about it.

They lapsed into silence again, just the two of them sitting shoulder to shoulder on the edge of Taehyung’s bed, their elbows resting on their knees and their fingers twisting in front of them. When Jungkook finally broke his mutism, Taehyung actually jumped. He had been so deep in his own thoughts that he’d forgotten the maknae was still beside him.

“Hyung, can I be honest?”

“Shoot.”

Jungkook looked nervous, to say the least, his leg bouncing anxiously against the floor but he ploughed into his confession regardless of whatever fear he had about sharing it. “I kind of see where Yoongi-hyung is coming from.”

The look on Taehyung’s face was enough to terrify him into continuing at full speed, stumbling over his words in the hopes that it would cool the bubbling temperatures in his friend’s emotional cauldron.

“I mean, he was wrong to threaten him. Definitely. No arguments there. But you and Myungsoo have only known each other for … what? Ten days? And already you’re spending every night with him, coming home at almost midnight, you’re skipping out on practise, fighting with the hyungs and I’m sorry but I really don’t like the way he touches you. It’s almost like you’re a possession he won in some gambling tournament. I just think that … maybe you two are going a little too fast.”

He finished with a pleading expression in his Bambi eyes, begging Taehyung to understand what he was trying to say but all Taehyung could see was white hot anger.

They knew nothing. They understood nothing. They really just didn’t get that Myungsoo was his saviour, his messiah, the guy who had swooped in and shown him that it was okay for people like him to fall in love. Who were they to tell him how to handle his relationship when none of them had been in one for the last five years? He was tired of their interfering, their holier-than-thou attitudes and their refusal to just leave him alone.

“Go to bed, Kook,” he snapped, turfing Jungkook off his mattress so that he could burrow under the covers. He turned his back on the maknae so that he wouldn’t have to see the heartbreak in that face and stared at the blank wall in front of him, just waiting for the sound of the door closing.

Only when he was sure Jungkook was no longer in ear shot did he wriggle his phone out of his pocket. He wanted to hear Myungsoo’s voice. Because Myungsoo was all he needed.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“They’ll have released the music video by now,” Taehyung murmured, his face mushed into Myungsoo’s chest as they lay, bodies interlaced on the living room couch. “It’s the worst feeling, not knowing if the fans are going to support it, if they’ll find something they think is racist or sexist or if they just don’t like it at all. It makes me feel so helpless.”“But you’re with me,” Myungsoo replied matter-of-factly, rubbing his fingers back and forth through Taehyung’s scalp and massaging the tension out of his shoulders. “So it can’t be that bad.”Taehyung raised his head, propping his chin on his boyfriend’s breastbone and staring him right in the face, eyes squinting and cheeks bunched up in his trademark smile. “That goes without saying.”Myungsoo leaned forwards, craning his neck so he could peck Taehyung on the tip of his nose which flushed red at the cringy gesture but the smile never left his face, not until the coffee table beside them vibrated along with the phone that lay on top of it.Taehyung groaned, reaching out a groping hand to snag the device, glaring down at Namjoon’s name on the caller ID.“Again?” Myungsoo asked incredulously, not even trying to mask the distaste in his tone. “Didn’t you leave them a note saying you were with me today?”“Yeah, I did,” Taehyung pouted, sighing as he reached for the ACCEPT button.After the fight with Yoongi and the way he’d snapped at Jungkook, he thought it would just be better to get out of the way. He’d made sure he was gone before any of the others woke up.“They might not have found it. I’ll just let them know I haven’t been mugged, abducted or murdered.”But before he could click on that little green phone icon on the right side of his screen, Myungsoo tugged the silver slab out of his hand and tossed it across the room. It made a soft thud as it collided with the padded carpet, bouncing slightly before momentum carried it underneath the armchair.“Soo …” Taehyung whined, pushing himself up off his human pillow. “That’s expensive.”“You’re practically a billionaire,” Myungsoo countered, fingers ensnaring Taehyung’s wrist and pulling him back down on top of him. “If it’s broken, you can just buy a better one.”Taehyung was spared the trouble of finding an appropriate answer by the lips that suckered onto his and he inhaled the breath mint smell. Breath mints. Cologne and breath mints. His favourite scent in the entire world.“You smell so good,” he mumbled in between kisses, the distortion in his words making him giggle.“Right back at you.”Myungsoo’s hands were running over his body, fingers digging into the skin of his back, tracing the indentations in his spine. He liked the sensation. It made him feel loved and cherished and important. Important enough for someone to want him so badly they would toss a phone across the room just to spend more time with him.A hand slid up his shirt, stroking the muscles that pushed up against his skin. They weren’t quite as defined as Jimin or Jungkook’s but he had spent hours doing sit ups on his bedroom floor to at least get an outline of the chocolate bar. To have somebody be able to appreciate that just increased the warmth spreading inside of him.Their mouths were locked, eyes closed in their shared euphoria, hands exploring the turf they were permitted to roam. There was no need for verbal consent. They simply relished in the heat their bodies gave off, chests pressed together and legs tangled at the other end of the sofa.Myungsoo’s wandering fingers slipped beneath the waistband of Taehyung’s jeans and his arm snapped out on instinct, grabbing hold of the trespassing digits before they could invade forbidden ground.“Can we just … take it slowly?” Taehyung whispered. He didn’t want to admit aloud that he’d never been with anyone before, let alone another man. The idea of sex was too alien to be rushing into it so fast.Myungsoo didn’t reply but those hands retracted themselves from their unwanted positions and Taehyung was at peace again, the taste of his boyfriend’s tongue in his mouth the only comfort he needed in this moment.But seconds later, his belt was being threatened again and when he protested this time, Myungsoo did not stop. If anything, his attempts to unbuckle the leather barricade between him and his target became more focused as he tugged on the strap to wriggle it free of Taehyung’s jeans.“Soo …” Taehyung grunted, planting his palms against Myungsoo’s chest and trying to push himself up only to be flattened back down by a tree-branch arm around his back. “Soo, stop.”“It’s okay, baby,” Myungsoo whispered, tugging his impediment out of the belt straps and tossing it to the side. “I’ll look after you.”“Soo, I said stop!” Taehyung cried out, the beginnings of panic starting to blossom in his chest as he tried once again to escape Myungsoo’s clutches and was thwarted for a second time. “Myungsoo, please!”“But I want you, baby …”“I don’t want you! No! Stop!”That finally did it. The hands froze in place and Taehyung felt the hardening in Myungsoo’s muscles as his entire body tensed with the horror of rejection. Taehyung looked up to see a hurricane in those eyes. The eyes of a person who had clearly never heard the word ‘no’ before. The eyes Taehyung saw just moments before a hand fisted in his hair.He cried out as the bright red strands tugged on his scalp, some of them ripped clean from their beds, but before he could reach up to defend himself, he was being thrown sideways.His head collided with the coffee table and pain exploded over his cheekbone, throbbing and pulsating with dull persistence. He brought his hand up to the site of trauma and whimpered when the touch brought him another wave of agony.“Taehyung, I’m so sorry,” came the voice from above him. The voice that had, only moments previously, brought him warmth but now instilled an icy terror in his bones.He scrambled up off the floor, hand still clutched to his face, and whipped around to see Myungsoo climbing off the sofa, his hands held aloft and his eyes swimming with guilt.“Baby …” he stepped forwards but Taehyung stumbled backwards, shaking his head as the tears started leaking from his eyes. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I swear, it will never …”“Never happen again?” Taehyung spat, his bottom lip quivering with the urge to burst into tears. “Gee, where have I heard that before?”He had been so stupid. So naïve. So arrogant. He should have run at the first sign of trouble and never looked back. He should have listened to Yoongi and Jungkook and he never should have said those disgusting things to them.“Baby, please …” Myungsoo pleaded, clasping his hands in front of him. “Just tell me what to do. Anything. I’ll do anything. Just please give me a chance to make it up to you.”“Just leave me alone,” Taehyung sobbed, finally cracking under the weight of his despair and allowing the tears to forge paths down his throbbing cheek. “Don’t call me, don’t come to my house. I never want to see you again.”“Tae!”But Taehyung had already grabbed his belt and his phone and staggered out onto the porch. The second the door closed behind him, he broke into a run, his vision blurred by the pools in his eyes and his face aching without mercy from the trauma it had suffered.He knew it was going to bruise. They were due to appear on Live TV in just a few days and he was going to look exactly like the battered boyfriend he had tried to deny he was. The fans would start speculating immediately, coming up with their own theories while the company scrambled to find a decent excuse for their idol’s injury.What if the other members were blamed? What if the netizens accused one of his hyungs of punching him? His overactive mind was already picturing the newspaper articles: “BTS FIGHTING? IS WORLDWIDE FAME TOO MUCH?” and it only increased the intensity with which his tears fell.Taehyung kept running. He didn’t care that he could be spotted or photographed, he just wanted to go home where he could smell Jin’s cooking and hear Jimin’s laughter and curl up underneath Hoseok’s arm where he would be safe from the hands that hadn’t waited for an invitation before they tried to take what wasn’t theirs.It wasn’t until he was standing on his own front porch that he realised he couldn’t bring himself to ring the doorbell. They would be furious with him for running out without waking them, especially on a day such as today where they always kept an eye on each other. And even if anger was not the path they took, he would be subjected to the “I Told You So” expressions and the lectures on listening to them in future situations.And he didn’t think he could even face Yoongi after what he’d said to him the previous night.
I understand that you’re insecure and damaged and unable to survive without attention.
Just the thought of those words made him want to throw up and they had come from his very own mouth. And to top it all off, he had snapped at Jungkook for absolutely no reason, immediately after the kid had expressed his concern for Taehyung’s wellbeing and, he reminded himself, had been completely and utterly right.No. There was no way he could go back in there. Anywhere but there.But the second he had turned to flee back down the driveway, the front door opened. He jumped, whipping around, his fight-or-flight instincts still in full swing and he didn’t know whether it was relief or fear he felt when he saw Jin gawping back at him.“Oh my God, where have you been?” the eldest exploded, lunging forwards and grabbing hold of Taehyung’s elbows to pull him over the threshold. “Hobi and I were just going to come out and find you.”Taehyung bowed his head, face almost parallel to the floor so that no one would see the swelling already blooming around his left eye. He simply allowed himself to be lead into the living room and deposited on the sofa. From the sweatpants-clad thigh that pressed up against his, he deduced that Jungkook had lowered himself onto the cushions to ensnare him in a one-armed embrace.Jin was crouched in front of him, hands on his knees, and Taehyung didn’t need to look up to know he had that concernedly disappointed expression on his face. He could hear it in his tone.“Taehyung, you can’t just leave like that,” he scolded and Taehyung nodded in his shame and humiliation.  “I left a note,” he whispered and he could hear somebody scoffing above him. He couldn’t tell who it was, he was too busy trying not to cry again.“A note?” it was Namjoon. “Taehyung, a note isn’t … Will you look at me, please?”A hand grabbed his chin and his face was forced upwards into the light, betraying the secret he should have known he wouldn’t have been able to keep for more than two minutes. Jin’s fingers retracted from him as quickly as they had latched on, Hoseok swore from somewhere behind them and Jimin was by his side in a second, stubby little fingers squeezing Taehyung’s trembling ones.“Jungkook, go and get some ice,” Jin ordered as he gingerly reached up to brush his dongsaeng’s scarlet fringe out of his eyes so he could see the bruising more clearly.“God, Tae …” Namjoon whispered and Taehyung finally allowed himself to break, burrowing into the crook of Jimin’s neck and sobbing as loudly as his traumatised body needed to.“I’m going to kill him,” somebody hissed from somewhere near the door, followed by a dangerously violent whisper fight between Namjoon and whoever it was who had spoken. Taehyung didn’t care anymore. He just cried.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

They let him hiccup himself into soggy silence, settling themselves around him so that he could feel their presence, before they initiated the conversation he knew they couldn’t avoid any longer.

“Tae, we need to talk about this,” Namjoon started, sitting on the table with his elbows resting on his knees.

Taehyung raised his head and looked around the room properly for the first time since he’d come home. He saw Namjoon perched on the table, Jin kneeling in front of him, Jungkook and Jimin on either side of him, Hoseok in the arm chair by the fireplace and Yoongi leaning against the wall, silent and gargoyle-like with his arms folded and his expression stony.

Taehyung had hurt him badly with his words the previous night but even that couldn’t stop his hyung from needing to check he was alright. It only made him feel guiltier.

“Do you want us to call Sejin-hyung?” Jin asked softly, rubbing his thumb back and forth over his little brother’s bony kneecap in the hope it would bring some comfort.

Taehyung shook his head, positioning the ice pack a little higher on his swollen cheekbone. He was already due a harsh lecture from Namjoon but he didn’t think he could handle one from his manager at this particular moment. Not after Sejin had praised them for all their hard work and commitment just yesterday.

“Okay then.” Namjoon cleared his throat, scrubbing his face over his hands and taking a deep breath before he dived straight in at the very deep and very dangerous end. “Yoongi-hyung and Jungkook told us that they think Myungsoo is bad news.”

Taehyung didn’t reply. He didn’t have the words. So Namjoon just continued.

“And I think we can all see that you didn’t punch yourself in the face today.”

“He didn’t punch me,” Taehyung whispered and he could almost hear the frustration in Namjoon’s sigh. It was the truth. Myungsoo hadn’t punched him. He had pushed him.

He hadn't wanted Taehyung to hit the table. He'd just been angry, but Taehyung was afraid of that anger. That anger which he'd now witnessed twice and wasn't prepared to do so again.

“Please, Tae, spare us the lies. We all know you were with Myungsoo and now you come back in tears with a black eye,” Hoseok interjected.

His words would have sounded harsh but his tone was gentle and on any other day, Taehyung would have found it inordinately comforting.

But today – the day he had experienced a type of trauma he never thought would ever happen to somebody like him, the day that his emotions were forming a whirlwind inside his dazed mind and he couldn’t differentiate one from another – it only made him furious.

He hated being patronised, talked down to, degraded. It felt as if they were treating him like a child, someone who couldn’t handle their own problems and needed to be mollycoddled or mummified in bubble wrap.

“Well, you’re wrong,” he spat, indifferent to the way Jimin and Jungkook tensed on either side of him. “You’re all wrong. You know nothing about what happened and you have no right to speak to me like a kid.”

He leapt off the sofa, startling Jin so much that the eldest lost his balance and hit his back against Namjoon’s legs. Taehyung had no idea what he was doing. He was hurting and he was embarrassed and humiliated and now he was lashing out at the only people who were willing to help him.

But if they were so concerned then why hadn’t they noticed when Myungsoo had first hit him? Why hadn’t Yoongi done something instead of just threatening the guy and telling Taehyung to call him if he was in trouble? Why hadn’t Jungkook acted on his suspicions? Why hadn’t Jimin known when they met in the dressing room? Why hadn’t Jin been the eldest? Why hadn’t Namjoon been the leader?

What had happened to him today was just as much their fault as it was Myungsoo’s.

And he hated them for it.

“You’re just jealous.”

“Jealous?” Namjoon cried out, voice rising at least an octave in his stunned state. “Of the guy who’s beating you?”

“He’s not beating me!” Taehyung screamed back, hurling the ice pack across the room in his misplaced fury. “You really think I’m pathetic enough to be one of those spineless doormats who keep running back to their alcoholic husbands or their drug-addicted parents? Because I’m not! What the fuck do you know?”

Everything. They knew everything. And he was too proud to accept it.

“Taehyung, watch your mouth,” Jin warned, straightening up and taking a step forwards.

Taehyung hadn’t meant to flinch. He had just seen those broad shoulders, the threatening posture, the dangerous eyes and he could only think of Myungsoo slapping him to the floor in that storage closet and towering over him as he lay clutching his cheek on the living room carpet. And he had flinched.

Jin looked horrified. Guilty, ashamed, shocked, a tumble dryer of emotions that all combined to quash the air from his lungs and force him backwards several steps.

“I’m sorry, Tae,” he spluttered. “I would never … You know I would never …”

“Don’t you see what just happened?” Namjoon interrupted, pulling Jin down onto the coffee table beside him so that Taehyung stood taller than them and therefore couldn’t feel threatened. “You thought hyung was going to hit you. Do you realise how messed up that is?”

“You can’t see him anymore, Taehyungie …” came Jimin’s timid whisper from the sofa his best friend had just vacated. “He’s not a good guy.”

Taehyung erupted.

“And what would any of you know about who is or isn’t a good guy?” he shrieked, rounding on Jimin with so much ferocity that Hoseok had to physically intervene for fear Taehyung would hurt the smallest one of them.

“None of you have been on a date in the past five years and, in case you’re as oblivious and ignorant as you’re making out to be, I’m gay! Do you get what that means? In this country, I’m practically a criminal. I can’t get married! I’m not free to love whoever I want to love! And if Myungsoo and I get caught by Dispatch, we are done! The chances of the whole still-extremely homophobic world accepting that one of the faces that’s plastered over billboards all over the place prefers men to women? Zero. So do you get now that when this guy shows up in my life that’s willing to risk everything – and I mean, everything – to be with me, I was okay with forgiving him for a couple of mistakes?”

He had expected there to be silence while they mulled over what he’d said because he’d even surprised himself, finding that the deeper he delved into his improvised explanation, the more sense it made to him and the more he was starting to understand just how much strain Myungsoo must have been under, but Namjoon spoke up instantly without even a hint of hesitation.

“Hitting somebody isn’t a mistake, Taehyung. It’s abuse.”

“Abuse?” Taehyung screeched, feeling the pressure building inside his head. “He loves me! He’s the first person who has ever loved me and he’s the only person I ever need to love me! The fact that you can’t even see that shows just how narrowminded you are!”

Namjoon was staring up at him, expression blank and arms folded. Taehyung was well aware that his leader wasn’t narrowminded. He was the smartest person he knew and yet the words had still spilled from his mouth as though something had taken over his body. And then he dealt the lowest blow he could have come up with.

“Just because it took five years for the fans to even acknowledge your existence doesn’t mean the rest of us are unlovable.”

He wished Namjoon would have yelled at him. Anything would have been better than the silence he was left with, everyone else just as horrified as he was.

“Joon …” Hoseok started, already edging out of his seat but Namjoon just got to his feet, gave Taehyung a sad smile and padded across the carpet to vanish into his room.

Taehyung was in shock. He had never seen his leader surrender like that. Namjoon would always stay, calm and collected, and fight for what was right. But now he had just rolled over. He was too tired to try.

And once all remaining eyes were burning holes in his body, Taehyung decided he could no longer be under the same roof with the people who now hated his guts. He stumbled towards the front door but Yoongi’s arm appeared in the way without its owner even moving his gaze from the wall opposite.

“You’re not going back to him, Taehyung,” Yoongi said bluntly, tone emotionless and flat.

Taehyung wrapped his fingers around his hyung’s bony wrist and ripped it out of the way, not even acknowledging the pop that he heard in Yoongi’s shoulder or the sharp intake of breath that indicated he had inflicted pain.

“Stay the fuck out of my business,” was all the dongsaeng hissed before he wrenched open the door. “And don’t bother calling me. My phone’s broken.”

He slammed the door in his wake, too disgusted with himself to bother trying to protect his body from the biting wind that threatened hypothermia with every gust that blew up his shirt.

How many things had Namjoon done for him? Countless. Infinite. Any other synonyms for that word. Namjoon had given him the world and then Taehyung had just thrown it back in his face, run him over with a truck, stamped on his broken body and left him bleeding out in the gutter. Not to mention nearly breaking Yoongi’s wrist and almost attacking Jimin.

He couldn’t go back tonight. They all needed time to cool off and he needed time to figure out whether it would be better to apologise on his knees or grovelling on his stomach.

And he only had one place to go.

After all, what he had said to the others may have been completely impromptu but it was the truth. Myungsoo really had risked everything for him. How many people would be willing to do that? To put their entire livelihoods on the line for a relationship.

And it wasn't like they were supposed to be perfect. They were flawed, just like everybody else, but flaws could be fixed. They could work on this. They could be okay.

The door opened less than five seconds after the first knock and Myungsoo’s alcohol-flushed face loomed out of the darkness, twisted into an expression of fury before it registered the boy trembling on his doorstep and melted into joy.

“Taehyung …” he started, stepping forwards and raising his arms but Taehyung retreated, holding out a warning finger.

“No.” Myungsoo stopped at once, eyes fearful. “You’re going to listen to me.”

He took a deep breath, curling his arms around his body to try and squeeze some warmth into his freezing midsection.

“Tomorrow, you’re going to call a counsellor and go into anger management therapy. Promise me that you’ll do that.”

“I promise,” Myungsoo nodded, desperate to appease and earn forgiveness.

“And if you hurt me one more time, I am gone,” Taehyung clarified, gesturing with his hands to prove his seriousness. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“Okay …” he paused, both of them waiting for the next move. “Can I come in?”

The pure relief that rippled through Myungsoo’s body seemed to travel through the frozen concrete beneath them and infect Taehyung with its warm glow.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. A million times, yes.”

Taehyung beamed at him as he started forwards, stumbling over the doormat and into the heated hallway.

“Good. Now…”

He hadn't quite been ready for the kiss Myungsoo smashed against his lips but he would have been lying if he said it didn’t feel just a little bit good.

No one would be willing to forgive him for his cowardice except Myungsoo. And if Myungsoo was prepared to look past every single flaw that lay beneath Taehyung's perfect facade, then Taehyung could at least do him the courtesy of giving him a second chance.

Barely two hours later, he was covered in blood and screaming to a God he did not believe in.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“I had a fight with my members,” Taehyung explained once he was seated on the sofa with Myungsoo’s arm around his shoulders and a beer bottle in his hand.

His boyfriend had asked him to cuddle like they had that morning but Taehyung had refused. He wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

“About me?” Myungsoo mumbled, his hand reaching up to stroke the back of the smaller boy’s hair.

“Yeah.”

“None of them approve?”

“Yeah.”

Taehyung sat up slightly, jostling himself out of Myungsoo’s grip and turning so they could face each other.

“But I’ve been thinking. Isn’t love about caring for someone even though they have imperfections? And isn’t love helping that someone through those imperfections so that they turn into perfections?”

He was rambling and he knew it but Myungsoo hadn’t interrupted him so he continued.

“I mean … My life is busy as hell. I’m barely in the country for longer than three weeks, I’m working all the time, I get a day off once in a century but you were willing to work with that. You’re the first guy who’s ever wanted me for me: the person rather than the celebrity. So I figured that the least I can do is love you for you: the guy who could cook for Korea, looks like he was sculpted by the Gods and calls me ‘baby’. Anything else we can work on and then we’ll be that perfect couple that no one can find a fault in. That’s what love is, right?”

He sputtered to a stop, fiddling with his fingers in his lap and watching Myungsoo with an anxious glaze over his eyes. He had never said anything of that calibre to anyone on this planet and if he was rejected or laughed at then he wasn’t sure he would be able to take it.

But Myungsoo’s eyes lit up and the fondness in his smile could have cured cancer as he reached out and took Taehyung’s hand. “You love me?”

“Uh …” Taehyung stuttered. “Yeah … yeah, I think I do.”

“Then let’s run away.”

“Wait. Sorry. What?”

“I’m serious,” Myungsoo said, his other hand joining the palm parade between them as he shuffled closer on the sofa cushions, gazing into Taehyung’s eyes with a kind of excitement one would associate with a small child. “Let’s get on a plane and go. We could be in Europe by tomorrow afternoon and start a new life there. No possessive members telling us we can’t be together, no concerts or managers keeping us apart … Come on, Tae. It’s perfect.”

Taehyung just gaped, half expecting Myungsoo to start laughing and tell him it was all a joke. But when the man before him continued to stare, expectantly awaiting an answer – an approval – he realised this was dead serious.

“Soo …” he chuckled nervously, edging backwards slightly so that they weren’t so close. “That’s crazy. I’m a world-renown public figure. There is nowhere we can go that people wouldn’t recognise me.”

“It’s not crazy!” Myungsoo cried out, his breathing starting to escalate ever so slightly. “Baby, I love you and you love me and no one else accepts that. We’re meant to be together, Tae, I just know it. The only people who are stopping us are your controlling, manipulative bandmates. We get away from them and we’re free to be whoever we want to be.”

By now, the anxiety was truly starting to sprout shoots in Taehyung’s gut. Myungsoo was scaring him with the way his eyes were bulging out of his head and the way his grin had a kind of juvenile and yet terrifyingly sinister excitement to it. He almost looked deranged.

“Soo … um …”

He didn’t know what to say without earning himself a slap.

Wait.

When did he start expecting the hits? When did this become a relationship where he had to watch his words for fear of pain or punishment?

“Come on, baby, say yes,” Myungsoo commanded.

It wasn’t a plea, it was an order. Say yes or else. Say yes or feel my palm striking your face.

“Tae …” he was growling now, hackles raised and claws extended. It was a challenge. He was daring him to say no. Waiting for a chance to sink his fangs into warm flesh.

“Yes,” Taehyung choked out, nodding vigorously. “Yes, of course, I’ll go away with you.”

“Oh, I love you so much,” Myungsoo declared, launching himself forwards and enveloping his prey in his clutches.

It took several moments for Taehyung to return the embrace, heart rate rocketing and mind racing at a billion miles an hour. This was bad. This was scary.

This was abuse.

And suddenly he realised he didn’t like the scent of cologne and breath mints anymore.

They had been right. All of them had been right and he had been so wrong. He had become that battered boyfriend he had insisted he wasn’t and now he was one of those spineless doormats who came running back to the boots that stomped over them.

He didn’t want to go away. He wanted Jin and Yoongi and Jimin and the others. He wanted them right now so they could protect him the way they had wanted to from the start.

His hand wandered towards the back pocket of his jeans and his heart almost stopped when he remembered he’d left his phone on the coffee table back in his own living room. He had no escape. Absolutely none.

“Why don’t you order us a pizza?” Myungsoo said, pulling back from their hug and leaping off the sofa, alight with elation. “We’ll eat and then we can go. Don’t worry about your stuff, we can buy you whatever you want when we get to … wherever the hell we’re going.”

“O … Okay …”

Taehyung stood on legs that betrayed his fear in the way they trembled underneath his weight. He reached for the phone, watching Myungsoo retreating to the kitchen. He wondered whether the walls were thick enough to hide a whispered SOS call to the others, but he knew they weren’t.

So instead, he started dialling and as soon as he pressed the first number, he realised what he was going to do.

It had to work. Please, God, let it work. I don’t know what he’ll do to me if it doesn’t work.

He heard the dial tone, droning on and on in bored couplets and he forced his best smile when Myungsoo reappeared in the living room with plates and cutlery, begging God that the recipient was going to pick up the phone.

Please. Pick up the phone. I’m so scared. I need you. Please pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

Oh my God. Thank you. Thank you so much.

“Hi, I’d like to order a pizza, please.”

“What?”

“Yeah, could I have one medium pepperoni and …” he looked up at Myungsoo, silently pretending to ask for his order. “Two medium pepperonis, please.”

Please understand me. Please understand me.

“Taehyung? Is that you?”

“Yes.”

Please, Yoongi-hyung. I’m begging you with everything I have. Please.

“What the hell are you doing? This isn’t funny. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to Namjoon?”

He’s watching me. Please, Yoongi-hyung. He’s watching me and I’m terrified. I need you to save me now and be mad at me later.

“Yes, please.”

“Taehyung, if you don’t tell me what kind of crazy shit you’re pulling, I’m going to hang up right now.”

Please. Please. Please. I’m scared. Please. Please.

“Yeah, my address is 849-9, Bangbae-dong. If you could be here as soon as possible, that would be great.”

Just come. I don’t care if you want to beat my ass later. Just please come because I don’t know what to do and I’m about to have a heart attack.

“Taehyung, are you in trouble?”

Yes! God, yes! Come right now! I need you right now!

“That’s right.”

“Are you with Myungsoo?”

“Yes, please.”

Come. I beg of you. Come and save me. Please come and save me or he’s going to take me away and I’ll never see you again and I’ll never get a chance to tell you how sorry I am and how you were right and I was wrong and I really need you, Yoongi-hyung. Please.

“I’m coming right now, Taehyung. I’m already in the car.”

“Thank you very much.”

“Can you get out of the house?”

“No, thank you.”

“Can you stay on the phone?”

“No.”

“Okay, just keep your mouth shut. Do whatever he tells you to do. I’ll be there in less than ten minutes. Just hang on, Taehyungie.”

“Thank you. Bye.”

He hung up, baptised in relief and drowning in terror all at the same time. His eyes zipped over to where Myungsoo was lighting candles on the mantelpiece, trying to figure out if he had somehow heard Yoongi’s voice through the speaker.

“Pizza will be here in about ten minutes,” he said timidly, edging back over to the couch and lowering himself onto the cushions before his legs completely gave out from underneath him.

“Perfect,” Myungsoo sighed, stepping back from his wick-illuminating and joining his boyfriend – captive – on the sofa. “So where do you want to go? It could be anywhere you want.”

Yoongi-hyung is coming. Just hang on. Don’t make him angry. Yoongi-hyung is coming.

“I don’t know. Where do you want to go?”

Oh, God, you sound so fake. You’re an actor. Pull yourself together and fucking act!

“I mean,” he started, interlacing his fingers in front of him and leaning forwards slightly to at least make himself look like he wasn’t scared for his life. “If you could go anywhere in the world – South America, Africa, Europe – where would you want to go?”

Myungsoo tilted his head to the side, staring off into space as though deep in thought. “I always thought I’d love to go to Italy. They’ve got the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the colosseum, and you know the art museums there are stunning, right?”

Taehyung cringed. Why hadn’t he seen it before? This man was playing him like a fiddle. He knew he loved art and was just using it to lure him further into this trap he already didn’t know how to escape.

“It’s also supposedly very romantic there,” Myungsoo continued, his hand somehow finding its way onto Taehyung’s thigh.

“Yeah,” he agreed breathlessly, the panic barely suppressed now.

Yoongi-hyung, please hurry.

Myungsoo was leaning closer. That hand was crawling higher. He was near enough to smell cologne and breath mints.

“Shouldn’t we pack a bag or something?” he asked in desperation, trying so hard not to make it obvious how terrified he was. “If we’re going to leave after eating then …”

“It can wait.”

He was even closer now. Taehyung could have counted the freckles on his nose or the lashes framing his eyes. The cologne was suffocating him. The breath mint smell was too strong.

And Myungsoo was still so beautiful. A beautiful, monstrous, manipulative liar. The perfect kind. The kind that lured you in until it had you in its clutches and there was no escape.

The hands were too high up, invading the precious ground Taehyung was now powerless to protect. Yoongi had said not to make him angry. Yoongi had said to do whatever he wanted. Yoongi probably hadn’t known Myungsoo would want this.

I need you right now, Yoongi-hyung. Please.

“Come here, baby.”

I don’t want to. Yoongi-hyung, I don’t want to!

“Let me show you how much I love you.”

This isn’t love. This is obsession. Yoongi-hyung, I need you! Please, God. Please, anyone. I’m not ready to do this yet. I want my first time to be with someone special. That isn’t you.

“You’re stunning.”

Stop touching me. Oh, God, please stop touching me. Yoongi-hyung! Yoongi-hyung!

Somebody hammered on the front door.

Yoongi-hyung, I’m in here! Please save me!

“Pizza’s here, baby.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“I’ll get it,” Taehyung practically sang, cringing at his own forced tone. He rose from the sofa and started towards the door but before he could make it more than two steps, Myungsoo’s fingers curled tightly around his wrist.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got it.”

“No, it’s okay,” Taehyung tried again but Myungsoo leapt to his feet and pushed him back down.

“You just relax,” he said. He was still smiling and the push hadn’t been hard enough to do any damage but it was clearly a warning. Stay down or else.

Taehyung obeyed.

Do whatever he tells you to do.

He pulled his knees up onto the cushions with him and wrapped his arms around them, pressing his lips into his thigh and closing his eyes, praying to everything that was holy in heaven that Yoongi wouldn’t get hurt.

He heard Myungsoo marching down the hallway and then the metallic creak of the door latch.

And then everything exploded.

“Taehyung! Taehyung, where are you?”

Taehyung’s eyes flew open and he scrambled up off the couch at the sound of the front door reverberating off the opposite wall with a force that was, frankly, terrifying. He heard Myungsoo’s yell of shock but Yoongi was much louder.

“Taehyung, tell me where you are!”

“I’m here!” Taehyung called out and suddenly he was sobbing as Yoongi flew into the living room and grabbed him by the face.

“Are you okay?” he asked, eyes roving over Taehyung’s trembling body and tear-soaked cheeks in their desperate search for injuries. “Are you hurt anywhere? Are you okay?”

Taehyung shook his head, his eyes streaming water like a faucet as he reached out and clung to Yoongi’s sweater. He had been so terrified that his hyung wouldn’t come. After what he’d said to Namjoon in the living room, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Yoongi had left him to the mercy of Myungsoo’s crazed obsession. But he hadn’t and that was all that mattered.

“Get me out of here,” he whispered, his bottom lip quivering like a baby as Yoongi muttered a faint “okay” and grabbed his hand.

They turned towards the doorway, the hyung leading the dongsaeng even though his body was so much smaller. But when they saw Myungsoo framed on the threshold, arms rigid at his sides and expression blank, they stopped. That was a very dangerous look.

“Myungsoo, I’ve called the police,” Yoongi warned, holding his ground as tightly as he held Taehyung’s hand but the younger could still hear the slight quiver in his tone. He was either fuming or afraid. “They’ll be here any minute and if you let us walk out of here, things are going to look a lot better for you.”

Myungsoo wasn’t looking at him. It was almost like his gaze could obliterate anything that stood in its way of Taehyung.

“Why did you do that, baby?” he murmured, head tilted to the side and eyes narrowed ever so slightly in an expression that couldn’t have been identified as anything other than confused betrayal. “I thought you said you loved me.”

Taehyung couldn’t have spoken if he’d wanted to. He was too terrified, the only thing keeping him from curling up on the floor and screaming being Yoongi’s fingers wrapped around his hand.

“Myungsoo, let us leave,” Yoongi repeated but now his fear was starting to project louder than his desire to draw the blood of the man who had abused his brother. “Just let us leave.”

“You can leave,” Myungsoo said, his tone still flat and hollow-sounding. “But Tae has to stay. We’re going on a trip together, aren’t we, baby? Where no one can ever get in the way of us again.”

Taehyung choked on a sob, his other hand leaping to clutch at the back of Yoongi’s jacket in his desperation to wake up from this living horror movie. They were paralysed on the spot, too afraid to move forward in case the lion pounced and Taehyung was just starting to wonder if Yoongi had bluffed about calling the police when his hyung changed tactics.

“We’re going to leave now, Myungsoo,” he announced, taking a step towards the door and pulling Taehyung with him. “We’re just going to walk out of here and that’s all that’s going to happen.”

He strode forwards with his eyes fixed on Myungsoo, waiting for any sign of danger, and ensuring his body was shielding Taehyung at all times.

Myungsoo didn’t move. Even when Yoongi was right in front of him, his breaths shaky but somehow controlled, he stayed stock still with his arms folded and his back rigid and his eyes threatening.

“Myungsoo,” Yoongi warned, head tilted up in order to even see Myungsoo’s face. “Move.”

Myungsoo stared down at him, boring into Yoongi’s eyes with a kind of wistful longing that sent shivers down Taehyung’s spine and had him almost wishing he would be the object of that gaze instead. He did not like his hyung being the barrier but he was too cowardly to take his place.

“You just couldn’t let us be happy, could you?” Myungsoo murmured and Taehyung felt Yoongi’s grip tighten on his hand from in front. “It’s a shame really.”

The calmness was the scariest thing. The calm before the storm. And holy shit what a storm it would be.

“You’re kind of pretty.”

The next thing Taehyung knew, he was curled up in a ball against the wall, screaming his lungs out as he drowned in his own tears and clutched his head in his hands.

Myungsoo had lunged for Yoongi, monstrous hands contorted into talons that thirsted for blood and were ready to kill. The prey had reacted instinctively and brought his knee up, catching the predator in his most delicate area.

It barely had any effect. Myungsoo was like a man possessed.

His grip curled around Yoongi’s throat and they thudded to the ground, kicking and thrashing and … suffocating.

Taehyung just morphed into jelly, liquifying into the corner as he watched Yoongi’s face starting to turn red, contorted into a strangled mask of agony as his hands clawed at the chokehold. Myungsoo’s thumbs were practically embedded in his windpipe, leaving no room for oxygen and squeezing the life out of his tiny body right in front of Taehyung’s eyes.

“Tae and I are meant to be together,” he was growling, his mouth twisted into a grin as he felt his victim’s struggle start to weaken. “And if you can’t accept that then you have to go.”

At the mention of Taehyung’s name, like it awakened his determination to survive, Yoongi’s hands shot up and attacked Myungsoo’s face. His fingers scratched at the eyes, nails digging in and producing a scream that curdled Taehyung’s blood right there in his veins.

The lion rolled sideways, clutching at his wounds and leaving Yoongi free to scramble onto all fours, gasping for air. He sounded like he was trying to breathe through a straw, choking and heaving and gripping his throat as he gagged and retched on the living room carpet.

“Taehyung …” he wheezed, struggling to make it to his feet without having retained the oxygen he had lost. “Get … out …”

But Taehyung couldn’t move. Myungsoo’s venom had seeped through his body and paralysed his muscles into useless slabs of fibre and gristle that couldn’t even help him to stand.

“Tae … get the fuck … out!” Yoongi spat, still trying to stagger towards him when Myungsoo threw himself across the carpet and seized his ankle.

Yoongi gave a strangled yell as his foundations were pulled out from under him and he hit the fire’s solid stone hearth.

There was a sickening

thunk.

That was the only word Taehyung could use to describe it. It wasn’t a crash or a smack or thump. It was a

thunk.

The sound only ever made when a skull collided with concrete.

And Yoongi wasn’t moving anymore.

There was blood on the hearth, splattered over the edge and slowly dribbling onto the carpet. Yoongi was lying on his stomach, his head turned towards the fireplace so that Taehyung couldn’t see his face. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He didn’t want to see glassy eyes and a gaping mouth and a throat with no pulse. He didn’t want to see Yoongi’s dead body.

But Myungsoo evidently did. Myungsoo was standing over him, staring down at his work with a sphynx-like expression. There was no emotion. No guilt, no horror, no surprise but no joy either. If anything, there was mild satisfaction. A job well done.

Now he was free to take Taehyung and run. There was nobody to stand in their way. Nobody knew where they were going, not even them, and now the only person who knew they were leaving at all was lying facedown on the floor, steadily bleeding onto the antique rug.

And Myungsoo would have gone right at that moment if a butter knife hadn’t been rammed into his shoulder blade with as much force as Taehyung could muster up in his traumatised state.

He watched, crying his entire volume of bodily fluid, as the man he had thought was his boyfriend screamed in agony, back arching and hands desperately trying to reach the thin sheet of metal embedded in his body. He staggered sideways, grabbing for the armchair and taking it down with him when he fell.

Taehyung just stood in the centre of the living room, clutching at his own stomach as he slowly lost his vertical status and sank to his knees.

“Hyung …” he sobbed, reaching for Yoongi’s prone body with hands that trembled like they were being electrocuted. “Hyung!”

Behind him, Myungsoo had fallen still, silent to the world and completely unconscious either from shock or bloodloss Taehyung didn’t know. He didn’t care.

“Hyung …”

His fingers scrabbled over Yoongi’s jacket until they found purchase and he managed to roll him onto his back.

“Oh … oh … oh … Hyung …”

To say there was blood everywhere would be an understatement. It lathered the entire right side of Yoongi’s face and continued to flow from the jagged, gaping hole in his forehead without any indication that it would ever stop.

His eyes were closed. His skin was almost grey. He was breathing but there was a harsh, stuttering wheeze with every inhalation and he already looked dead.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Taehyung choked out as he pulled Yoongi’s scarlet-drenched head into his lap. His jeans were stained in seconds and his hands were slick and slippery as they fumbled with Yoongi’s throat in their unqualified search for a pulse. “I’m so sorry … I’m so sorry … I’m so sorry …”

He had called him here. He, Taehyung, the same boy who had basically told his leader that he was unlovable, had called him here. And Yoongi had come anyway. To protect him. To save him. And now he, Taehyung, was cradling his bleeding body.

“I’m so sorry …”

There were sirens outside. Apparently, Yoongi hadn’t been lying about the police.

“I’m so sorry …”

The front door was still open. That was how they got in. That was how they found them. The man with the butter knife sticking out of his back, the man with a great crimson chasm in the flesh over his right eye and the man doused in blood, tears, snot and sweat who kept apologising through his sobs.

“I’m so sorry …”

They were telling him to let go but he didn’t want to. He had brought his hyung here, he had sat back as his hyung was suffocated and he hadn’t stepped in until his hyung was already dying. He didn’t want to let go ever again.

“I’m so sorry … I’m so sorry … I’m so sorry …”

“He’s seizing! Get an ambulance here now!”

“I’m so sorry …”

“You have to let go, sir!”

“I’m so sorry …”

“Dispatch, this is Unit 3006. I need two ambulances to 849-9, Bangbae-dong, Seochu-gu immediately. We have two patients, one with a penetrating wound to the back and the other with a severe head trauma, currently seizing. Both are unconscious.”

“I’m so sorry … I’m so sorry … I’m so sorry …”

“Fuck, this is bad!”

“I’m so sorry …”

But Yoongi couldn’t hear him.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Taehyung had been given a private room to protect him from the beady eyes of the public who would snap up any opportunity to put out an article. He needed no medical treatment but they were already in the spotlight with an album having been released barely six hours ago and if any of them were recognised in a hospital, there would be uproar.He had run out of tears to cry at least thirty minutes ago and instead had reduced himself to a shrivelled ball of dried snot and sore eyes curled up against the hospital pillows.Yoongi was imprinted into the back of his eyelids, his colourless face lolling against Taehyung’s thigh as he offered his blood up to the living room carpet. And the seizure. As long as he lived, Taehyung would never forget the seizure. He had seen them in movies and on TV but never in real life. Just the residual memory was enough to make him want to vomit and he had already done that enough.He had stabbed Myungsoo. He had stabbed him. He had hurt another human being when just a few hours previously, he didn’t think he was capable of swatting a fly. His mind hadn’t been his own. All he could think of was to get that man away from his hyung. As far away as possible.He had aimed for the shoulder. He swore to God, he had aimed for the shoulder. Not the spine. He hadn’t wanted to kill. He would never try to kill. Only maim. Or seriously injure. God, he was repulsive.How long had he been here? The others were on their way, he knew that, but it felt like an eternity since he had sobbed unintelligibly down the phone at Jin. He had apologised profusely.
“I’m sorry for what I said to Namjoon-hyung.”

“I’m sorry for not listening to you.”

“I’m sorry for everything.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”
He should have apologised more. He didn’t deserve their forgiveness or their compassion. He had chosen a man he had barely known for three weeks over the friends he’d had for seven years. And now Yoongi was dying. Yoongi could already be dead.They had taken him away. They had ripped his hyung from his protesting arms and abandoned Taehyung in a private hospital room with a set of scrubs to change into and an ice pack for his bruised cheek.It almost made him laugh. An ice pack. He had an ice pack when Yoongi was having brain surgery. It was insulting.There was blood still crusted in the beds of his fingernails and in the hair above his eyes where he’d raked his hands through his fringe. He had tried to wash it off but when he’d watched the water in the sink run red, his stomach had curdled and he’d had to dive for the toilet before he spewed all over the bathroom floor.The worst part was that he didn’t know whether it was Yoongi’s blood or Myungsoo’s. Two people he’d cared about. Two people he had hurt. Two people he might have killed.“Taehyung?”His head snapped up so quickly that he wondered if something had popped in his neck, but the second he saw Jin framed in the doorway, he scrambled off the bed and flung himself at his hyung.Jin caught him easily, muscular arms encircling his waist as Taehyung gripped the back of his shirt and wailed into the crook of his neck, burrowing into the warm flesh.“I’m sorry … I’m sorry … I’m sorry …” he choked out, his obsessive mantra rising in both pitch and decibel until Jin had pulled back, taking him by the face and ordering him to calm down.Once his vision returned to him, he saw that the others were all there too. Hoseok, Jimin, Namjoon, Jungkook. They were all there. They had all come for him. No, not for him. He didn’t deserve that. They had come for Yoongi. Who he had hurt. Who he might have killed.“It’s my fault,” he gasped, scrabbling at his chest while Jin tried to talk him through his breathing. “It’s all my fault.”They didn’t listen, they simply ushered him back to the bed and coaxed him to lie down. Jimin snuggled in beside him, arms wrapped around him from behind and face pressed into Taehyung’s back, shushing in between gentle whispers of ‘my baby’.Safe in his best friend’s embrace with Hoseok holding his hand from where he sat in the chair beside the bed and the weight of Jungkook on his feet, he surrendered to the clutches of unconsciousness that he had been battling for so long. Such was his exhaustion that he was spared the nightmares he knew would be plaguing his sleep for a long time to come.------------------------           He wasn’t sure how much later it was that he felt himself drifting back to the realm of terror that was reality, but the last thing he wanted to do was open his eyes. In this moment, when he was in the dark with the softness of blankets and pillows underneath him and the warmth of Jimin pressed up against his back, he wasn’t responsible for anything.He was just a kid sleeping on a bed. Not the kid who had gone running back to the boyfriend he had convinced himself was not abusive only to realise he had never been so wrong. Not the kid who had called his hyung right into the warzone to save him and then watched that hyung being slammed headfirst into solid stone. And not the kid who had embedded a butter knife in the back of the man he had thought he loved.But then he heard the solemn hum of a voice that wasn’t any of his hyungs or his maknae and he found himself continuing to feign sleep as he listened, scared that if he revealed he was awake, they would deny him the information he so desperately needed.“…Cerebral edema. We performed a decompressed craniectomy where we removed a portion of his skull to allow his brain to swell without putting pressure on the brain stem and risking permanent neurological deficits.”They had taken a piece of his skull out? Could a person survive without a full skull? Wouldn’t their head look misshapen and deformed? Yoongi was an idol. He wasn’t allowed to be deformed.The brain was swelling. Swelling wasn’t bad, right? He, Taehyung, had swelling ballooning underneath his eye but they weren’t slicing his head open. Did they even know what they were doing? These so-called doctors who sawed people’s skulls into pieces?And permanent neurological deficits? Was he talking about brain damage? As in drooling-in-a-wheelchair, unable-to-speak-in-anything-less-than-a-grunt brain damage? This was a dream. He was still asleep. Yoongi couldn’t have brain damage. The world wasn’t that cruel.But it seemed this disembodied voice wasn’t finished.“When the brain has suffered a major trauma, the body starts to carry out a process known as ‘damage control’. This is where it starts shutting down any or all other vital organs so it can protect the neurological system and try to preserve brain activity. This, of course, leads to multiple organ failure and is almost always fatal.”But that wasn’t what was happening to Yoongi. Right? That couldn’t be what was happening to Yoongi.“So in order to prevent that process …”Oh, thank fucking God.“We had to place Yoongi-ssi in a comatose state in order to give his brain time to heal without his body having to put pressure on the rest of his internal organs.”
Wait.

Wait.

Somebody ask.

Somebody please ask because I can't bring myself to.
“Hyung … Hyung’s in a coma?”“A medically-induced coma,” the man – the doctor who had drilled holes in Yoongi’s skull – clarified. “It’s not the same as what people tend to picture when they think of the word ‘coma’. Because we controlled the induction, we hope to be able to bring him out of it if his brain shows signs of healing. Then we can replace the skull fragment we removed with a synthetic disc.” If? If his brain shows signs of healing? As in it might not? As in he might not wake up? As in … As in … Ever?“Yoongi-ssi also sustained a severe trauma to his throat due to what we believe was an attempt at strangulation. As a result of this, his trachea was ruptured, one of his lungs collapsed and he went into respiratory failure. Now, we’ve fitted him with a chest tube that will help re-expand his lung and we performed a procedure called a tracheostomy where we made an incision in the throat to insert a breathing tube seeing as his airway was too swollen to allow him to be ventilated through his mouth.”The thought of Yoongi lying in a hospital bed, machines doing the breathing and the beating and the pumping for him, until they ‘pulled the plug’ as it was called, shattered Taehyung’s resolution to stay silent and undetected.He shot into a sitting position, dislodging Jimin from behind him and eliciting a squeak of shock from Jungkook at the foot of the bed.“He can’t die,” he cried, already opening the floodgates and reaching out to clasp the doctor’s hands in both of his, indifferent to the shock that ricocheted through the hyungs who’d thought he was sleeping. “You have to save him. He can’t die. Please. Anything you can do, you have to do it. He cannot die.”“Tae …” Jin started, taking his dongsaeng by the forearms and trying to gently pry his white-knuckled grip off the doctor who was simply looking down at the sobbing boy in front of him with nothing but heartbreak on his face. “Tae, let go.”“You can’t let him die,” Taehyung continued regardless, desperation mingling with terror in the tears sliding down his face. “Whatever treatment … surgery … procedure – I don’t know what the fuck he needs but we have the money. We can pay for anything. But you can’t let him die.”“Taehyung, stop!” Hoseok whimpered from where he was crouched with his back against the wall and his face buried in his hands, muffling his sobs. “Just stop.”Taehyung couldn’t breathe. There were huge iron chains tightening around his chest, squeezing the air from his starving lungs.He had hurt Yoongi. Yoongi couldn’t die because he, Tae, had hurt him. And Yoongi couldn’t die because he, Tae, needed him to be alive. There was nothing else to say. No other reason required. Yoongi couldn’t die. It just wasn’t allowed to happen.“Kim Taehyung?”Everybody looked up at the now-open door to see two police officers framed on the threshold, huge packs of black padding underneath their vests adding to the already-bulging muscles straining against their sleeve shirts. They just screamed intimidation.“We need to ask you a few questions.”“I’m sorry,” Namjoon spoke up from where he had his hands braced on the edge of the hospital bed, head rising from its resting place against his chest. “But can you give us some more time? He’s not ready for that yet.”“If Mr Kim is stable,” the officer on the left started, his thumbs slotting into the loops of his belt just to prove how macho he was as he took a step further into the room. “Then I’m afraid we need him to come down to the station.”Everybody looked to the doctor, expectation and pleading boring off different faces. The white-coated man only sighed and Taehyung understood. He wasn’t hurt. He wasn’t sick. He was 100% pure health and therefore there was no reason for him to be here.“Mr Kim is stable enough to leave,” the physician admitted before pivoting around the room, inclining his head to each inhabitant, and departing.“Alright then,” the other officer conceded, marching forwards until he was standing right in front of Taehyung, towering over his snivelling form. “Kim Taehyung, we need you to accompany us to the station for questioning regarding the attempted murder of Kang Myungsoo and Min Yoongi.”“What?”“You’re joking.”“You can’t be serious.”The others had all exploded, leaping to their feet with fists clenched and protective instincts already engaged, but Taehyung’s sky had just fallen on top of him and words were not a virtue he was capable of possessing.The police officer raised his hand and quiet fell immediately, smothering them in a rageful silence.“Mr Kim, you need to come with us.”Taehyung felt numb. He couldn’t move his arms, his legs, his fingers or his toes. He couldn’t even move his eyes. They remained locked on Jin’s left shoe on the floor in front of him, unable to take in anything else in the shock that consumed his body.“Hyung …” he heard Jimin squeak from behind him and could only presume the plea had been directed at Namjoon because their leader was the next to speak.“I’m going with him,” he said defiantly. Taehyung didn’t even need to look to know that he was squaring up to the police officer with his arms folded and his feet planted firmly on the floor. “Is that allowed?”“It is.”“Okay, then. Come on, Tae.”Taehyung felt hands – Namjoon’s hands – gently cupping themselves under his arms, slowly levering him off the bed he had sunk back onto. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real. This was all a dream. That was it, this was all a dream.He was just asleep in that studio waiting room and any minute now, Jimin would wake him up and he would realise that Myungsoo had never existed and Yoongi had never collided with that stone hearth.“We’re going together,” Namjoon pushed as he urged Taehyung into stumbling in line with the officers who were awaiting with impatient sighs and disapproving expressions. “I’m not going to leave you. It’s all going to be fine.”Just before the door swung shut, securing the final barrier between Taehyung and four of his members, he heard Namjoon call over his shoulder, his strangled tone aimed directly at Jin.“Call Sejin-hyung and tell him to meet us at the station.”There was the click of the handle as the latch secured the door in its frame and Jin, Hoseok, Jimin and Jungkook were left in a silence louder than a concert stadium. Hoseok was still on the floor but now he was no longer crying and his mouth was hanging open in an absent, dead-looking expression. Jimin and Jungkook were still sitting on the bed, staring up at Jin, desperately begging him with their eyes to wake them from this nightmare.“It’ll be okay …” Jin whispered before clearing his throat and raising his voice. “It’ll be okay … Everything’s going to be okay.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“You have the right to remain silent. You do not have to answer any questions or make any statements. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer before we ask you any questions and you have a right to have a lawyer with you during the questioning process. If you cannot afford a lawyer and want one, the court will appoint one for you before you are asked any questions. If you want to answer questions now without a lawyer being present, you have the right to do so. You have the right to stop answering questions at any time.”

Taehyung had started crying the moment the recording device had been turned on. It was then he had realised that this was not a dream and he was, in fact, sitting in the interrogation room of a police station with two officers across the table in front of him and Sejin by his side.

Namjoon wasn’t allowed in. Sejin was, considering that they hadn’t had time to contact a lawyer before they’d been chucked in the darkened room with the one-way glass against the right-hand wall. But the one thing Taehyung could think was that Namjoon was the only person he wanted with him at this moment. And Yoongi, of course.

“Do you understand, Mr Kim?”

Taehyung nodded, snagging another tissue from the box in front of him and swiping at his leaking eyes. The officers’ hardened expression didn’t even flinch. They had been trained to ignore the tears of potential murderers.

“Just tell the truth, Taehyung,” Sejin soothed from beside him but Taehyung could hear the strain in his voice. “Just tell the truth and it’s all going to be fine.”

The first officer glanced down at the file in front of him, settling back into his chair like he was just watching a football match on TV, beer in hand and buddies by his side. He looked completely at home and it sent shivers down Taehyung’s spine. He didn’t belong here.

“Mr Kim, where were you between 3 and 5pm this afternoon?”

“I …” Taehyung started before pausing to clear his throat of the mucus that had lodged itself in his oesophagus. “I was at my … I was at Kang Myungsoo’s house.”

“And Kang Myungsoo is your boyfriend?”

Taehyung almost vomited. Almost. “Ex-boyfriend,” he clarified thickly. “Very, very ex.”

“And why did you decide to go there?”

“Because I’d had a fight with my band members and I wanted to get out of the house.” It seemed so stupid. It was so stupid. They had told him not to go and he hadn’t listened and now here he was, one step away from being thrown in a prison cell.

“And can you describe the events that lead up to the attack on Kang Myungsoo and Min Yoongi?”

Hearing Yoongi’s name just caused Taehyung to cry harder. He didn’t even know if Yoongi was still alive. He hadn’t been able to see him or touch him or even tell his unconscious body that he was sorry one more time before he’d been bundled into the back of a police car with his tear-soaked face buried in Namjoon’s shoulder.

“Myungsoo …” Just saying his name left a sour taste in his mouth. “Myungsoo told me that he wanted us to move away together. To … to Europe or … or just somewhere that wasn’t here. I was scared and so I called Yoo … I called Yoongi-hyung to come and get me.”

“Why were you scared?”

Because he was going to abduct me!

“Because Myungsoo had been abusing me and I didn’t want to move someplace where I didn’t have anyone to call if I was in trouble.”

“Do you have any evidence of this alleged abuse?”

Alleged? Who alleges abuse? What kind of sick fuck does that?

“I have a bruise on my eye,” Taehyung whispered, gesturing to his purpling cheekbone and cringing under the scrutiny of the officers in front of him. “From where he threw me into a coffee table.”

“You didn’t fall?”

What?

“No, I didn’t fall!” he cried, outraged that anyone would even suggest he was lying. “He pushed me.”

Except he didn’t actually push you, did he? Don’t lie to the police, Taehyung.

“Well …” his voice was so quiet that he could barely even hear himself. “I did fall but he pulled me off of him and …”

“So you were on top of him? Were you being intimate?”

“No … I mean … yes … but I didn’t want to …”

It was all coming out wrong and even he could tell that he sounded shifty. He sounded like he was lying and these people in front of him knew it. But before he had a chance to clarify, the officer had already moved on to the next question.

“So why did you go back to Mr Kang’s house if he was supposedly abusing you?”

I can’t answer that. I actually can’t answer that. Why did I go back? Why did I do that?

“I … I …”

“Mr Kim, why did you return to the house if you felt unsafe with its occupant?”

“I thought I could help him get better,” Taehyung whispered, his hands trembling from where they were gripping each other on the table in front of him. “I thought we could be okay … That we could be a proper couple.”

Do you not hear yourself? You’re talking complete shit. You knew he wasn’t going to change, you just wanted to spite your members.

“So what happened after you called Mr Min to come and retrieve you?”

I can’t talk about this. I can’t. It’s too painful. I can’t think about it. I can still see him bleeding in my arms. I can’t. I just can’t.

“Mr Kim, are you exercising your right to remain silent?”

No! You can’t do that! Then they’ll think you’re guilty of something you’re not.

“No …”

You can do this. Just tell the truth. That’s all they want. The truth.

“Yoongi-hyung arrived and tried to take me home but … but … Oh, God … Oh, God!”

He couldn’t inhale. He was shaking too much, every molecule of his body, both external and internal, were spasming with the residual trauma and he could feel Sejin’s hand between his shoulder blades but he couldn’t turn his head to meet his eye.

“Take your time, Taehyung,” his manager breathed in his ear, that hand rubbing circles in his back. “Take your time.”

Taehyung finally managed to regain control of his respiratory system and when his vision returned to him, the only thing he could focus on were the completely indifferent expressions of the police officers in front of him. They looked bored, arms crossed and eyebrows raised in disapproval.

“Mr Kim, are you alright to continue?”

You have to continue. You have to tell them and get Myungsoo put away forever.

“Yes … Yes, I’m fine … I’m sorry.”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Myung … Myungsoo told us that we couldn’t leave, that he l … he loved me and then he … then he … Oh … Then he … He grabbed Yoongi-hyung and started trying to st … strangle him and …”

“And where were you, Mr Kim? While your friend was being suffocated, where were you?”

“I was in the corner,” Taehyung squeaked, gripping Sejin’s hand so tightly that his manger was starting to make tiny grunts of pain from beside him. “I was too scared to do anything.”

“So you sat and watched as your boyfriend tried to kill your hyung?”

Yes. That is what you did. You didn’t try to save him. You didn’t even do anything until he was already unconscious and bleeding on the carpet.

“Yes …”

“And then what happened, Mr Kim?”

Taehyung couldn’t look at them anymore. He couldn’t see the indifference on their faces, like he was just another sociopath who had taught himself to cry in the hopes it would get him out of doing jail time.

“Yoongi-hyung managed to get Myungsoo off of him and he … he tried to crawl towards me but Myungsoo gr … grabbed his foot and he fell … he … he fell …”

Breathe. Do not have another meltdown.

“He fell into the hearth and hit his head.”

He could hear Sejin’s soft whisper of, “holy shit,” beside him and another wave of tears forged fresh paths down his cheeks as he closed his eyes and tried to eradicate the memory of Yoongi’s prone body cradled in his arms.

“And how did Mr Kang end up with a knife in his back, Mr Kim?”

You have to admit what you did. It’ll be okay. They’ll know it was self defence and you’ll be fine. You just have to admit it. You’ll feel better after you say it. Just admit it and it will all be okay.

“I … I …”

He looked to Sejin, half hoping his manager would just get up and leave so that he wouldn’t have to hear the awful things Taehyung had done. But Sejin just stared right back at him, expectantly awaiting a reply.

“I stabbed him.”

“You stabbed him?”

“Yes.”

Sejin let go of his hand and Taehyung hadn’t realised how much he had needed that contact until it was gone. His fingers felt cold and abandoned and he suddenly wished he had a pair of gloves to stop their compulsive shivering.

“You admit that you stabbed Kang Myungsoo in the back?”

“To protect Yoongi-hyung!” Taehyung cried, leaning forwards slightly in the desperate hope that they could see the truth in his eyes. “I stabbed him to get him away from Yoongi-hyung!”

“But didn’t you say that Min Yoongi had already hit his head?”

“Yes … He had … But I was …”

“Was Kang Myungsoo still assaulting Min Yoongi while he was unconscious?”

“No, he wasn’t, but …”

“So you stabbed him in the back after he had injured your friend.”

“Yes, but you need to understa …”

“Was it in revenge? Did you mean to kill your ex-boyfriend for hurting your hyung?”

“No!” That single word had knocked the breath right out of him. “I didn’t try to kill him. I would never try to kill anybody. I aimed for the shoulder. I wanted to hurt him but I didn’t want to kill him.”

“So you did want to hurt him?”

“Yes, but to protect Yoongi-hyung!”

Why aren’t they listening to me? They won’t let me explain and now they’re getting the wrong idea.

“You see, here’s the thing, Mr Kim,” the officer on the left said, leaning forwards with his elbows resting on the table and his fingers interlocked. “Mr Kang has had to undergo major surgery on his shoulder in an attempt to fix the nerves that were damaged by the knife you have admitted to stabbing him with. The doctors have told him he may never regain full motion of his arm.”

Taehyung gaped. He hadn’t wanted that. He hadn’t wanted to take away a man’s arm. If that had happened to him, his career would be over. You can’t dance with an arm that doesn’t move. Taehyung had done that. Taehyung had permanently injured a person.

“And he has given us a different story.”

Wait. What?

“What kind of story?” Taehyung asked, his voice trembling almost as much as his hands. “What did he say?”

“Well, you both seem to agree that you stabbed him. You’ll remember we took your fingerprints when we brought you in and they match the ones on the knife the doctors removed in surgery so I think everybody’s on the same page there.”

Taehyung gulped. Those iron chains were starting to tighten around his chest again, crushing his lungs into alveoli pancakes.

“But Mr Kang seems to think that you were the one who assaulted Mr Min because he didn’t approve of your relationship.”

There was silence.

Taehyung had no words. He knew he should be defending himself, spluttering in horror and denying every foul sentence that was spouting from this officer’s mouth but his voice box had iced over and all he could produce was a strangled croak.

“Mr Kang told us,” the officer continued, glancing down at his papers in front of him. “That you called Mr Min to bring you a bag of clothes so that you could leave on the trip you had decided to partake in together. However, once Mr Min arrived, without any of your belongings, he told you that you couldn’t leave due to the nature of your job.”

This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

“According to Mr Kang, you and Mr Min engaged in a particularly aggressive argument that concluded with Mr Min punching you in the face and you tackling him to the ground where you then proceeded to suffocate him.”

Please wake up. Please wake up. Namjoon-hyung, please wake me up and tell me none of it’s real.

“When Mr Min escaped, you pulled on his ankle which caused him to fall and hit his head on the hearth where he sustained a severe traumatic brain injury and is currently in a medically-induced coma at the hospital, am I right?”

No. You’re wrong! You’re completely wrong! Everything you just said is wrong!

“You did not intend to injure Mr Min but once you had, you tried to convince Mr Kang to help you dispose of his body as you believed him to be dead. Mr Kang refused and while he was trying to tend to Mr Min, you stabbed him in the back, severing the brachial nerve and rendering him partially paralysed in his left shoulder. Does any of this make sense to you, Mr Kim?”

I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. Namjoon-hyung! Yoongi-hyung! Jin-hyung! Fucking someone, wake me up!

“No …” Taehyung choked on his sobs, turning to Sejin and shaking his head so violently that the world span once he’d stopped. “No, I didn’t … I swear, hyung, I would never … I would never hurt Yoongi-hyung … I couldn’t ever hurt Yoongi-hyung.”

“But you have admitted to hurting Kang Myungsoo,” the officer interjected, eyebrows raised and mouth a thin straight line.

They’d got him and Taehyung knew it. He was a blubbering mess, too hysterical to defend himself and only validating this fake story Myungsoo had fabricated.

“I think we have what we need. We can figure out the rest in court.”

What does that mean? What does that mean? Sejin-hyung, tell me what that means.

“Kim Taehyung, I am arresting you for the aggravated assault of Kang Myungsoo resulting in grievous bodily harm. You do not have to say anything but anything you do say ...”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Firstly, to all of you who bombarded me with love and support, thank you so much. You turned a crap couple of days into a bearable couple of days and I love you all so much for it. I know you didn't have to listen to my insecure teenage meltdown but you did and not only did you listen but you responded so I have nothing but adoration for all of you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Secondly, this chapter will remain as a reminder to every single person on AO3, whether they are a writer or a reader. Please listen carefully:

Writers work their butts off to produce stories that you, their readers, will enjoy. Some of them - myself included - slave over a single fic for months on end just to make sure that it's as perfect as it can possibly be. And you, as the readers, are perfectly entitled to your opinion. I am not disputing that for a single second. You are allowed not to like a story, you are allowed to think that it's unrealistic or badly written or whatever it is. Again, it's a free world.

But I would ask that if you do have those thoughts, just stop reading the story. Don't comment and tell the author that you don't like what they've written. There are many people on this website who struggle with self-esteem issues and I know that for me, posting here is one way I am boosting my confidence. So therefore, when an author sees a comment that says "this is incredibly unrealistic" or "this wouldn't happen in real life" or "do you really think this would happen?", it feels like a bit of a slap in the face.

It feels like the readers, the people you worked so hard to please, have taken the gift you've given them and told you that it isn't good enough. This is not a professional website. We are not professional authors who are accustomed to hate comments and criticsm and we don't want to be. This is for fun, this is for innocent fun and that's all it should have to be.

So I speak for all my fellow authors - particularly the little girl that I've spent months coaching who has just posted her first fic - when I say that if you have any negative thoughts on another person's story please, please, please, please, please keep it to yourself unless you truly believe that the story is endangering another person or shouldn't be on the website.

Thank you and once again, I love you all so much.

Andi xxxxxxxx

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Jin wished he could have said he was sleeping when Namjoon called, but that would have been a lie. It was 3 in the morning and he hadn’t slept more than forty-five minutes in the last twenty-four hours. It wasn’t that his eyelids weren’t threatening to droop every thirty seconds but the terror of falling asleep and waking up to find Yoongi dead was keeping him awake.When the phone buzzed, he almost dropped it in his desperation to answer, clapping the screen to his ear and mumbling out the word ‘Namjoon?’ through his mask.“Hyung … I …”Namjoon sounded like he was about to cry, croaky and exhausted and stretched to breaking point, and Jin knew exactly how he felt.“How’s Taehyung?”“They arrested him,” Namjoon choked out and Jin felt his heart just combust in his chest. He couldn’t understand how they had been worried about a damn album only this morning. “He confessed to stabbing Myungsoo but Sejin-hyung says they’re going to try to charge him with attempted murder. Of Myungsoo and Yoongi-hyung.”“They can’t,” Jin whispered, propping his elbow on the bed and burying his fingertips into his eyes as though he could gouge his brain out of his skull and just end this nightmare. “Tae would never hurt Yoongi. Tae would never hurt anyone.”“But he confessed, hyung.”Jin leaned back in his chair, letting the hand holding his phone drop to his knee for a split second while he blinked back his tears. “I don’t think I can do this, Joon.”There was a crack in Namjoon’s voice as he replied. “Are you saying you’re going to lea…?”“No. God, no, I’d never leave you like this but … Tae’s in jail and I’m looking at Yoongi right now and I’m wondering how the fuck I failed to protect both of them.”“You’re with Yoongi-hyung?”“Yeah, they let me into the ICU about an hour ago.”He looked down at Yoongi. At the bandages turbaned around his head, one tube sticking out through the incision in his neck, another threaded up his nose and the little white patches crowning his temples, attached to the machine that was projecting his brain activity into fuzzy grey lines. His free hand slipped into the fingers resting against the crisply pressed sheets, tracing the outline of the IV pumping his dongsaeng with nutrients he couldn’t ingest in his unconscious state.“How is he?”“Fighting,” Jin rasped back. “But barely. I practically had to go through a decontamination shower before they let me in here in case I passed on any bacteria but watching him right now, it’s hard to imagine he could actually get any sicker.”“I’m going to come over there,” came Namjoon’s fatigued tone from the other end of the line. “I need to see him.”“Don’t,” Jin protested at once. “Only one person’s allowed to visit him at a time and you sound like you’re about to pass out. Go home. Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin are already there and they need a leader right now.”“They need a hyung … I need a hyung.”It was the barely-stifled sob that truly broke Jin’s final barrier between him and his own break down and he pushed himself out of his chair to turn away from Yoongi’s bed. It may sound stupid but he didn’t want Yoongi to hear him cry.He and Namjoon just stayed on the phone, listening to each other’s hitched breaths and snotty sniffles before Jin finally pulled himself together. Everyone always relied on Namjoon to calm them in a time of crisis but it seemed that this particular disaster had knocked their leader to his knees. And with Yoongi – who usually took the role of commander in Namjoon’s absence – comatose, Jin had to step up.“Listen, Joon,” he said, cementing his tone in the hopes it would drag Namjoon out of his meltdown. “We can’t break, okay? In front of each other, yes, but in front of the others, absolutely not. This is the price we pay for fucking up. No matter how bad it gets – and it’s going to get bad, Joon – but no matter how bad, we cannot break. Do you understand me?”“Yes,” Namjoon responded and Jin almost smiled at the renewed strength in his dongsaeng’s voice. “I understand. Yes.”“Okay,” Jin breathed. “Sejin-hyung’s still there at the station, right?”“Right. He’s on the phone with the lawyer.”“Good. He can stay with Tae. They’re not going to let you see him anyway. Call a bodyguard and get him to come pick you up and when you get home, tell everyone that I’m with Yoongi, that he’s stable, and that they need to all go straight to bed or I will beat them with a frying pan. And even if you can’t close your eyes, Joon, don’t you dare go on the internet. Take everyone’s phones, sleep in the same room if you have to but be the leader they need right now. I’m staying here for tonight and I’ll call you in the morning.”Namjoon listened throughout the barked orders, nodding his head even though he knew Jin couldn’t see him and humming occasional acknowledgements.“Have you got all of that?”“Yeah. I got it.”“Okay, now listen carefully.”Namjoon awaited another rant of instructions or perhaps an inspirational speech about digging deep to find his non-existent strength but instead, all he heard was a consistent, steady beeping pattern.“What’s that?”“Yoongi’s heartbeat.”Namjoon clutched at the phone with both hands, pressing the speaker as far into his ear as it could go without perforating his eardrum and clung onto that simple and yet so beautiful sound. That was his hyung’s heartbeat, strong and steady and fighting against every last force of nature that was trying to silence it.“I’m hanging up now,” came Jin’s voice and Namjoon opened his mouth to protest, to beg for just a few more seconds, but the call ended and he was left in the police station corridor, clutching a silent phone and trying his hardest to regulate his breathing.Somewhere in this building, Taehyung was sitting in a holding cell, probably sobbing his eyes out as he imagined what prison life would be like. And Namjoon had no way of getting to him.    --------------------------        The media was going to find out. They knew that from the start. They just weren’t expecting it to only be two days after Taehyung was transferred from a police holding cell to a correctional facility – or Hell Hole as Jimin had called it. And of course, the reporters had to twist everything into the most scandalous story they could come up with.Jungkook had been the first to find the article. Jin had awoken to the maknae shaking him, eyes glistening and phone clutched in his hand. The eldest had only just managed to sit up and scrub the sleepy dust from his lashes before the news page was thrust under his nose.What he read lit a fire in his gut, burning and shrivelling and eating away at his insides until he’d had no choice but to simply pull Jungkook onto the bed with him so the kid could cry into his hyung’s chest.   
BTS’ V ARRESTED FOR ASSAULTING FELLOW BAND MEMBER

Rapper Suga in critical condition after aggressive altercation with bandmate

Worldwide sensation, BTS, have been named the biggest boyband in the world, and yet fame appears to come with a cost. It seems that the pressure of maintaining their images in front of the entire planet have driven the Bangtan Boys to their limits.

Vocalist, V – full name Kim Taehyung – was arrested on February 16 after his fingerprints were found on the knife used to stab one of BigHit Entertainment’s employees, Kang Myungsoo, who has sustained permanent damage to his shoulder. In addition to this brutal attack on a member of his management company, Kim Taehyung has also been charged with placing his bandmate, Suga – full name Min Yoongi – in a medically-induced coma as a result of a traumatic brain injury.

Kim Taehyung has confessed to the assault and was transferred to Seoul Penitentiary on February 18 where he will await trial. BTS and BigHit Entertainment are yet to make a public appearance or release a statement regarding this shocking
 Jin had stopped reading after that. He hadn’t wanted to scroll down to the comments, especially not with Jungkook curled into his side, dousing his pyjama shirt with his tears, but he couldn’t help himself. The moment he read the first, he knew they were going to have to fight to the death to ever redeem Taehyung in the public eye. 
NO!!! Yoongi-Oppa!!!! Please get well soon! We’re all praying for you!

V tried to kill Suga???? WTF????

I never liked Teayung in the first place. I hope Yoongi recovers quickly and then they can all move on without him.

Finally BTS cracked. Who wasn’t expecting that? They should have known they were climbing too high. Can’t wait for the grumpy one to die and the weird one to go to jail.

OT6 FOREVER!!! LIKE IF YOU AGREE!!!
       This post has 1,985 Likes Even though Jungkook flinched and yelped in surprise, not for a second did Jin regret hurling the phone across the room so hard that it smashed on impact. He didn’t care. He would buy Jungkook a new one. But he couldn’t buy Taehyung his freedom. Or Yoongi his life. -----------------            Namjoon had been stretched to breaking point the entire day, just waiting for his final string to snap and release the tidal wave of emotions he had been suppressing for so long. Sejin had told him that going to visit Yoongi after what he’d just been through was a bad idea, considering how distressing it was to see the boy still so sick, but Namjoon had ignored him.Hoseok was peeling off his mask and gloves when the leader arrived at the door to the ICU. His hyung looked up at him, scrunching the elastic fingers into rubbery balls and tossing them in the bin, before wiping his hands on his jacket and reaching up to embrace Namjoon as tightly as he could.“Are you okay?” he whispered, nose buried in his dongsaeng’s shoulder. “I tried to watch it on TV but I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”Namjoon just nodded as he drew back, forcing the bravest smile he could muster. The press conference had been a living hell. The cameras flashing in his face, blinding him with their electric intensity; the microphone sitting in front of him, picking up every breath, every cough, every tiny rustle he made; the questions those reporters had fired without mercy …
“Did you know Kim Taehyung was going to attack Min Yoongi and the BigHit employee?”

“Did you notice any change in Kim Taehyung’s behaviour that maybe could have indicated he was mentally unstable?”

“Is Kim Taehyung expressing any regret for his actions?”

“Does Kim Taehyung realise that, as a public figure, he has destroyed any role model potential he had?”

“Do you feel you’ve failed as a leader?”
The entire time he’d wanted to get up and sprint right out of the room. If Sejin hadn’t been beside him, grounding him with a hand on his thigh under the table, he probably would have.“It’s okay,” he muttered as he turned to the sink, squirting a dollop of soap onto his palm and lathering it into his dried skin. “Have the doctors said anything new?”Hoseok’s sigh could have been heard from China. He leant against the wall, forehead pressed into the cool concrete, before he answered.“The police are asking them to take hyung out of the coma, considering they need him for the trial, but the doctors said if they wake him up too early, he could stop breathing, have a heart attack, a stroke … he could die. He’s displaying signs of healing but at the same time, they don’t think he’s ready yet.”Namjoon flicked the moisture off his hands and scrubbed them dry before strapping the mask to his face. He wished he had a reply. He wished he had something to say that would bring comfort to a situation where comfort was not a component.“Have you heard from the lawyer?” Hoseok muttered, watching his leader struggle with tying the scrub cap behind his head with a purely defeated expression on his tired face.“We can visit Taehyung the day after tomorrow,” Namjoon supplied thickly from behind the mask covering his nose and mouth. “The trial’s set for next week and there’s a chance one of us is going to be called as a witness.”“Why?”“Because he was being abused right in front of us!” Namjoon yelled, swearing at the top of his lungs as his fingers slipped for the umpteenth time and the scrub cap slid off his head.“Come here,” Hoseok ordered, taking his friend by the shoulders and turning him round so he could tie it himself. “What happened to not breaking?”Namjoon smirked. “Jin-hyung told you about that?”“Of course he told me,” Hoseok scoffed back, expert fingers working at the knots behind Namjoon’s head. “You may be the leader but I’m older than you. You think I’m being left out of this hero warrior party?”He finally finished tying the cap and watched his friend pulling on the gloves, stretching the rubber over his long fingers.“Yoongi-hyung will wake up,” he said with as much as conviction as Namjoon felt: none. “He’ll wake up, he’ll tell the police what happened and Taehyung will be fine. We’ll all be fine.”“I hope so,” Namjoon responded before he used his elbow to push open the ICU doors and slid into the seat beside Yoongi’s bed.That machine was still beeping, a concrete reassurance that his heart was still functioning underneath all those wires. The ventilating tube embedded in his throat was making a disturbing sucking noise as it filtered oxygen into the airway that had been crushed under Myungsoo’s grip.Namjoon took his hand, wishing that he didn’t have to wear those sweat-inducing gloves so that he could feel his hyung’s skin underneath his fingers, and he just started talking. He knew that people in medically-induced comas weren’t supposed to have any auditory sensations. This was for his comfort rather than Yoongi’s.“I don’t care if there is some bright white light,” he said, stroking his rubbery thumb over the back of his hyung’s hand. “Or your great-aunt Freda calling you towards the magical realm of paradise or whatever the hell it is … I don’t care about any of that. You have to get better for Taehyung. You have to. Otherwise I will never forgive you, okay? If you die, I will hate your guts for the rest of my life so you get better, okay? Okay?”There was no reply.“You know, hyung, now would be a really, really good time to wake up. I kind of sort of desperately need you.”There was no reply.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Do not wear clothing that resembles what the prisoners wear.Do not wear clothing that resembles what the custodial staff wear.Do not wear any item that cannot be taken off or pass a metal detector.Do not wear any transparent or revealing clothing.Do not wear any hats or gloves.You may bring in a small clear plastic bag:-       A maximum of 50 dollars-       Your identification-       A small unopened pack of tissues-       Documents up to ten pages long that will be reviewed by staff upon arrival-       Ten photographs that have been deemed appropriate by staff       “I feel like I’m the one in prison,” Jin whispered as he joined Namjoon on the other side of the metal detector, glancing nervously at the burly-looking prison guards running their hands over a woman on his left as he tugged his shoes back on. “I can’t stand the thought of him being in here.”“It won’t be for long,” Namjoon mumbled back, his gaze fixed on the floor in pathetic hope that he wouldn’t be recognised even though he already knew there were people staring curiously over at him from the waiting line. “Right?”Donghyun, the lawyer, looked up at them with a sadly sympathetic expression.“I’ll do my best,” was all he could offer before they were ushered into the next room and ordered to sit at one of a congregation of islanded tables.Namjoon couldn’t ignore the wince Jin gave as he lowered himself onto the hard-backed plastic chair, his leg bouncing nervously against the floor and his fingers fiddling with the front of his T-shirt.“Now remember,” Donghyun started, drawing their attention from their anxious internal soliloquys. “You can’t touch him. No matter how much you may want to, you cannot initiate contact of any kind. That includes everything from hugging him to holding his hand.”Jin sucked a breath in through his clenched teeth but mimicked Namjoon’s nod of understanding. They both hated it. They both despised that Taehyung was incarcerated within these disgusting four walls, alongside people who had intentionally hurt, raped or murdered another human being. He didn’t belong here. He was the last person who could ever belong here.“And try not to cry,” Donghyun added in an undertone, glaring at the young woman who was peering over at them from an adjacent table. They had requested a private room considering their situation but had been refused. “If he sees you getting upset it will only make him feel worse and he needs you two to be as strong as you possibly can.”“Can we tell him about Yoongi?” Jin asked tentatively. “Can we tell him he’s still alive?”“Of course you can,” the lawyer added kindly, the first smile of the day breaching his middle-aged face. “But I wouldn’t add details. Don’t tell him Yoongi hasn’t made any progress, don’t tell him the doctors are unsure if he ever will and don’t tell him about the incident last night. He has to be focused on this trial and if he knows that his hyung almost died barely twelve hours ago, he’ll be a mess.”They both nodded again. Neither of them had planned on discussing the previous night’s events with Taehyung anyway. They both were having trouble talking about it themselves.Namjoon could still hear the nurses bellowing orders as he backed up into the corner of the room, his heart insulting him as it continued to beat at a terrifying speed while Yoongi’s had stuttered to a stop.Jin was about to speak when there was the click of a lock opening and everybody in the room looked up to the door furthest from the entrance as it spewed a mouthful of shuffling figures clad in navy blue overalls. Some of them were looking up, expectant eyes roaming over the awaiting visitors as they searched for their loved ones or lawyers. The others were fixated on the ground, faces concealed by lank fringes as their shame gnawed away at their dignity.The man at the front of the queue, burly and bald and bleeding malignance with those eyes that were soulless and those tattoos that snaked up his neck, settled his gaze on Jin as he passed them by and Namjoon had to resist the urge to pull his hyung closer when he saw the seductively evil curl of his pierced lips.He didn’t want Jin in this place. He didn’t want those bastards to be looking at one of his members like he was meat on a stick, available for all to grab, and he certainly did not want Taehyung under the same roof as the likes of … that.The second this was over, he wished he could take them all – Jin and Taehyung and Yoongi and all the others – and flee the country. To escape from the prying eyes and the flashing cameras and the seductively evil curl of pierced lips. To escape the smell of cologne and breath mints.“Joon,” Jin hissed from beside him and Namjoon pulled his gaze from the disgusting convict who had undressed his hyung with his eyes to see Taehyung standing by the door. “Joon … he’s so thin.”It wasn’t exactly true. Taehyung could have only lost a couple of pounds but in the oversized navy blue jumpsuit and the way he cowered by the wall as he scanned the room for them, he looked unbelievably small.Donghyun raised an arm, projecting a honing beacon for Taehyung to follow. The lawyer had to use a hand on Jin’s arm to remind the boy that he wasn’t allowed to initiate contact as Taehyung weaved his way over and sank into the chair furthest away from them.He had pulled his sleeves over his hands and had them pressed into conjoined fists on the table in front of him and he refused to look up, faded red hair hanging over his eyes.“Hi, Taehyungie,” Jin started tentatively, consciously taking his hands off the table so that he wouldn’t be tempted to reach out. “We missed you.”  Taehyung just nodded, the only acknowledgement of Jin’s words being a pitiful sniffle. As though he were trying not to cry.“Are you eating three meals a day?” Jin continued and Namjoon could practically feel the desperation to wrap the kid in a hug radiating from the eldest’s body. “It’s really important you don’t go hungry, Tae.”Taehyung nodded again, one finger protruding from his sleeve to poke at a loose thread on the opposite cuff. Namjoon turned to Donghyun, silently pleading with him to do something – even if he had no idea what that was – but the lawyer merely smiled sadly and made a gesture Namjoon took to mean the man wanted him to do some talking too.“Yoongi-hyung’s doing really well.” He didn’t know where the words had come from or why there wasn’t a tremor in his voice like he’d expected there to be but Taehyung had stopped fiddling with his sleeve so he continued without hesitation. “His brain is healing and the doctors said they might try to wake him up soon so that they can put his skull back together.”He didn’t add that they had already tried waking Yoongi up. Taehyung didn’t need to know that had almost resulted in adding ‘murder’ to his list of charges.“And his finger twitches every time we say your name.”Jin flinched. It was a lie. A blatant, cruel and fictitious lie Namjoon had fabricated in his selfish desire to see Taehyung raise his head. It wasn’t true. Yoongi hadn’t made a single movement since they’d been allowed in to see him. He was so still morning, noon and night that the doctors had confessed their concern for his lack of neurological activity.But Taehyung didn’t need to know that. And although Namjoon had … fibbed, the red-headed boy lifted his head for the first time since sitting down and looked at them with the slightest sliver of hope in his dulled eyes.“Really?” he croaked, and his voice sounded like his throat was lined with sandpaper.“Yeah,” Namjoon nodded, ignoring Jin’s pinch under the table. Don’t lie to him, it said, but he didn’t care. He would tell a thousand lies if it meant he could see that pinprick of optimism in his dongsaeng’s face. “You know how stubborn he is. He’s putting up a really good fight.”Taehyung smiled. It was barely even registerable, the corners of his lips only lifting a millimetre at either end, but to Namjoon, it felt like the sun had just emerged from behind the clouds after an age of darkness.“I didn’t hurt him,” Taehyung suddenly whispered, all traces of that ghostly smile erased from his papery face. “I’d never hurt him.”“We know,” both Jin and Namjoon said simultaneously.“We know it wasn’t you,” Jin continued, his hand edging across the table before he remembered and withdrew again. The gesture did not go unnoticed by Taehyung. “And that’s what Yoongi’s going to tell everyone as soon as he wakes up.”
If he wakes up.
“Taehyung,” Donghyun interjected, leaning forwards to draw the attention onto himself as he flipped open the file in front of him. “We need to discuss your trial.”Taehyung looked like he was going to throw up. Any colour he had regained while listening to the lies about Yoongi’s health seemed to drain right back out again and his gaze returned to his hands in front of him.“Okay,” he whispered.“We’re going to be there, Tae,” Namjoon assured him, shoving his hands underneath his thighs to refrain the irresistible urge to throw his arms around that tiny little boy and sprint right out of this building, never to return again. “We’re all going to be there, right behind you.”“No!” Taehyung cried with twice the volume he had used in all his previous words combined and Namjoon faltered, eyes widening. “I don’t want you there. I don’t … I don’t want you to … I don’t want you to hear what happ … I …”“Okay,” Jin soothed as Taehyung’s panicked eyes rallied between the three people before him. “Just calm down, Tae.”Namjoon shared a glance with Donghyun as they listened to the youngest’s breaths evening out again, before they broke the news.“Tae …” Namjoon started, biting his bottom lip anxiously. “Jin-hyung, Hobi and I have to be there. We’ve been called as witnesses.”“But you weren’t there!” Taehyung whimpered, looking to Jin for comfort once more and shedding a single tear when he remembered that he wasn’t allowed to touch him.“But they were present throughout the days following up to the incident,” Donghyun interjected, smiling kindly at the frantic boy across the table from him. “We requested that Jimin and Jungkook be exempted and we were successful but Seokjin, Namjoon and Hoseok have to attend the trial next week.”Taehyung was almost sobbing now. He had his fingers pressed so firmly to his lips that his nails had turned white and his eyes were closed, his shoulders heaving as he tried to silence his own misery.“Taehyung …” Jin choked out, clearing his throat of his own emotion before continuing. “If you think that we’re going to believe anything that bastard says you did, you’re wrong. We know you didn’t hurt Yoongi, we know you were trying to protect him and we’re going to do everything we can to ensure the judge sees that too. Okay? We’re not going to love you any less, I promise.”  It did nothing for Taehyung’s despair but the words Jin spouted, croaked and hoarse, did soothe the hyperventilating that was starting to draw attention from the surrounding tables. Namjoon was just thankful that phones had been confiscated by security.“Good boy,” Jin praised him, briefly glancing skywards to let gravity impede his own tears from falling. “Good boy, Tae. Everything’s going to be fine.”Donghyun had sat, silently observing, as Taehyung responded to his hyungs’ comfort but once he deemed his client no longer at risk of passing out, he cleared his throat to signal that it was time for all attention to turn to him.“Are you ready to discuss your case, Taehyung?” he asked, already shuffling through various papers from the monstrous file in front of him.Taehyung looked to Namjoon, his watery eyes silently begging for his leader to take away this torture. To shine a light in a room that bore nothing but darkness. To pull him from the snapping jaws of the media and the courtroom and the crushing feeling that Yoongi would never open his eyes again. All Namjoon could do was smile encouragingly, but that seemed to be enough.“Yes,” Taehyung whispered, nodding as if he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. “Let’s do this.”Donghyun was brilliant. He wasn’t cold or cruel but he didn’t tiptoe around the gory details either. He told Taehyung exactly how bad things looked for him. His were the only fingerprints on the knife and even though they had checked Yoongi’s hair and nails for traces of Myungsoo in the hopes it would reveal the unbelieved truth, there had been more of Taehyung’s DNA then there had the real culprit.But Donghyun softened each blow with an advantage they held over Myungsoo and the prosecution lawyers and Namjoon couldn’t have been more thankful for his presence.To have somebody else in complete and confident control of the situation was unbelievably comforting. It meant that he could let go a little and just let Donghyun do his thing, work his magic, play his part, without feeling like he himself was about to crumble to dust.Saying goodbye to Taehyung, however, shattered every stroke of the warm reassurance that had settled in Namjoon’s stomach. The boy had cried, literally begging for them not to go and Jin had been beside himself, tears streaming and apologies flowing as he was glared at by the guards until he finally allowed his leader to pull him from the room.The eldest had been silent for the entire car ride home.But Namjoon remained in the vehicle parked outside their dorm even after Jin had trudged up the pathway to the front door. He turned to Donghyun in the back of the SUV with the tinted windows and the luxury leather seats – trying not to think about the cold mattress Taehyung would be curling up on that night – and asked as bluntly and plainly as he could:“Can we win this?”And the answer had torn him in two.“Not without Yoongi’s testimony.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Give me your phones,” Jin ordered under his breath, barely even able to look at Jimin and Jungkook’s faces as they handed over their devices. “No TV, no computer, no anything that you could read the news off of. Promise me.”

The kids nodded, heads hung low and gazes downcast. Jin could almost feel Hoseok’s exhausted agony from where the dancer stood with his back against the wall, arms lax at his sides and eyes half dead. He understood the feeling but at the same time, he couldn’t help but wish that his dongsaeng would just pull himself together and help.

Jimin gave a sniffle and Jin’s voice cracked as he let out a hoarse, “come here,” and pulled them both into a hug, relishing the feeling of their breaths on his neck as he held them. He wondered if he’d just held Taehyung like that, would any of this have happened?

“We’ll be back by 8 at the latest,” he choked out as he let them go, wishing he could cradle them forever but knowing the court proceedings began in less than an hour. “Look after each other, okay?”

“Can’t we come too?” Jungkook asked tentatively, Bambi eyes silently pleading with his hyung. “I want to see him.”

“But he doesn’t want to see you,” Hoseok snapped harshly from beside them, gaze hardened and lifeless, but the moment he saw Jimin flinch at his tone, he seemed to deflate and whispered a weak apology to the floor.

“It’ll be okay,” Jin swore, ruffling Jungkook’s hair to try and hide how badly his hands were shaking. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

But he knew they didn’t believe him. That’s all he’d been saying for the past week and the words were just as empty now as the first time he’d uttered them.

“We need to go. Sejin-hyung’s waiting outside.” Hoseok mumbled and Jin nodded before reaching out for the window to his right and rapping gently on the glass.

In the room beyond, Namjoon looked up over the top of his mask and Jin jerked his head in a non-committal order. The leader threaded his gloved fingers through Yoongi’s hair, whispering something indistinct and unheard before he pressed his forehead to his hyung’s cheek and pushed out of his chair.

The moment he stepped out of the room, Jimin was already at the sink with the soap in hand, too broken by his separation from Yoongi to wait for anymore goodbyes and pointless promises. Jungkook was just watching him, a cracked shell without a purpose now that the baby bird within had died.

“Okay,” Namjoon sighed, disposing of the mask and gloves in the trash before taking a firm grip on Hoseok’s elbow. “Let’s go.”

And the three of them left the kids in the hospital corridor, waiting outside the ICU where one of their own lay unprotected and vulnerable with no guarantee he would ever open his eyes again to go and see another of their own being abused, attacked and dehumanised in front of the entire world for a crime he did not commit.

------------------------

Taehyung cried right from the moment they brought him into the courtroom. He had taken a single step through the door at the back, powderpuff eyes roaming over the jury, the journalists and his three hyungs in the front row, and immediately burst into tears.

It did nothing for sympathy. Not a single member of the congregation looked the slightest bit guilty for the torture they were forcing this boy to endure, and Taehyung was shoved barbarically into the box before the door was locked behind him.

Jin looked at his lap the entire time, hands trembling as they scratched away at his suit trousers without the slightest bit of interest in the tears that plopped onto the expensive fabric, one by one. Namjoon peered past the eldest and saw that Hoseok just had his eyes closed, and he wished more than anything that he could have been the only one in this courtroom. That he could have spared Hoseok and Jin this agony.

Taehyung cried through the reading of the charges, he cried through the opening statement and he cried through his own testimony as he was forced to recount every last detail behind that terrible night.

It was the first time any of the hyungs had heard the true extent of the events leading up to Yoongi’s coma and Taehyung’s arrest. It was the first time they had listened to how their little brother had watched the person he’d thought would be able to protect him being strangled and suffocated just a few feet away. And it was the first time they had learned just how terrified Yoongi had been as he’d crawled towards Taehyung, airway collapsing in on itself, and begged him to get up and run.

Donghyun smiled at the boy once he had hiccupped through his story and the questions he asked were both sternly professional and yet soothing and gentle all at once. He didn’t yell at Taehyung like Namjoon had seen the lawyers on TV dramas do. He didn’t throw his arms in the air and there were no cries of ‘objection’ from the prosecution stand. Where Myungsoo sat.

Myungsoo.

The thought of even saying his name made Namjoon want to vomit, and therefore being able to see him sitting in front of him, within reaching distance, was agony. He wanted to vault over the gate and tackle him to the ground, slamming the bastard’s head into a table like he had done to Taehyung and digging his thumbs into the jerk’s throat like he had done to Yoongi.

Myungsoo was just sitting there, his arm wired up in some mechanical brace that kept it bent at a strange angle so his damaged nerves could heal. The leader wanted to rip it from his body and listen to his bones break. It was no less than he deserved for what he’d done to Namjoon’s family.

And when that pathetic excuse for a human being rose from his chair, wincing as though it somehow caused him a great deal of agony, and took the stand, Namjoon didn’t realise he’d been muttering profanities under his breath until Jin hissed at him to shut the fuck up.

“Tell us what happened, Mr Kang,” the prosecution lawyer said, interlocking his fingers and leaning forwards in his seat to grant his client his full attention. “Take as much time as you need.”

Namjoon heard Hoseok choke out a spiteful chuckle on the other side of Jin and the eldest’s hand shot out to squeeze his thigh, silently ordering him to be silent. They all knew that nothing they did was going to help or hurt Taehyung any further but the least they could do was make a good impression.

Myungsoo took a deep breath, shoulders heaving melodramatically as he glanced across the room at Taehyung’s sobbing form, his eyes widening slightly as though that fragile creature in the inmate overalls with the cuffs on his wrists actually inflicted fear in his heart.

“Taehyung and I met because I was an employee for BigHit Entertainment, the company that Taehyung works for,” Myungsoo started, his voice trembling as he looked to the jury, imploring them to listen to his twisted lies. “I asked him out and we started dating.”

Taehyung let out a particularly loud sob before he managed to stifle himself by clamping his lips shut and dropping his chin to his chest. Namjoon could literally feel Jin’s urge to leap over those barricades, wrap his baby up in his arms and carry him home for seaweed soup.

“We got on really well,” Myungsoo continued, oblivious to Taehyung’s distress in his sociopathic soliloquy. “I thought that I’d finally found the one. But one of Tae’s bandmates, Min Yoongi, didn’t approve of our relationship. I don’t know if he had his own feelings for Taehyung or if he was just being protective but he hated me from the start.”

“And he had reason to,” Namjoon muttered under his breath, clenching his fists atop his thighs as he mustered every gram of restraint to stop himself lunging for the filth on the stand. How dare he say Yoongi’s name. How dare he after what he had done.

“And one day they had a fight, all of BTS I mean, and Taehyung came to my place in tears, saying that he wanted to get away from them all. That he wanted to be with me forever and not have to worry about anyone trying to stop us.”

Lies. All of it was lies.

“I said that we could leave at once, take a flight to Europe or somewhere we couldn’t be found and Taehyung wouldn’t be recognised. He agreed and called Yoongi to ask him to bring some clothes so we could just pack and go. But Yoongi phoned the police and told them I was hurting Taehyung or something. He showed up without any of the stuff and they got into a huge argument.”

“That ended when you tried to kill him,” Namjoon ground out through gritted teeth, ignoring Jin’s nails digging into his leg. “Say it. Go on. Say you tried to kill him.”

“Taehyung … Um … Taehyung said some …” Myungsoo paused, glancing over at Taehyung as though the next words were too difficult to say. “Taehyung said some things to him – to Yoongi – and he got really mad. Yoongi punched him and then they were fighting. I tried to stop them, I swear I tried to stop them, but it was like Taehyung was possessed.”

Taehyung was almost hysterical by now, completely bent over in his seat with his face buried in his knees. Members of the jury were glaring over at him and the judge was looking deeply irritated by the onslaught of weeping coming from the box.

“He climbed on top of Yoongi and … and …” Myungsoo’s breath hitched and Namjoon had to hand it to him. He could act. “He started choking him … He almost killed him but I managed to pull him off.”

Lies. Everything was lies. They had to remember that none of this was true. That Taehyung would never, not in a billion years, hurt Yoongi and all of this was the distorted fable of a psycho boyfriend-beater.

“Yoongi tried to crawl away but Taehyung grabbed his ankle and he fell … he hit his head on the hearth and … and he didn’t move after that.”

Hoseok gagged, bringing his fingers up to press against his lips and Namjoon realised that his hyung hadn’t opened his eyes for the entire duration of the testimony.

“We thought he was dead,” Myungsoo whispered, and his voice seemed to echo in the courtroom with the high ceilings and stone walls, and everybody listening seemed to soak it up. And believe him. “Both of us thought he’d died and Taehyung panicked. He said that we had to get rid of the body somehow.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Namjoon, shut up.”

“I told him he was crazy. That I didn’t want anything more to do with him and he got so mad. I tried to check on Yoongi, to see if he was still breathing and … and …” a tear slid from Myungsoo’s eye, rolling tragically down his handsome face and splashing onto his shaking hands.

“Take your time,” the prosecution prompted and Namjoon could tell the entire room was lapping this up like society always did.

“That was when Taehyung stabbed me in the shoulder.”

Taehyung was almost invisible now, having curled so tiny in his seat that Namjoon could only see the brilliantly red crown of his head protruding from behind the stand. But he could hear the sobs and it sliced his heart into a trillion tiny pieces.

“After I had the surgery at the hospital, I told the police what happened. It wasn’t until later that I heard Taehyung had accused me of abusing him.”

That was when Myungsoo looked right across the courtroom just at the exact moment Taehyung raised his head and Namjoon saw their gazes lock.

“I didn’t want things to turn out like this,” Myungsoo whimpered and Taehyung shrivelled even smaller in his chair, if that was even possible. “Barely a week before, I was telling Taehyung how Yoongi had threatened me and he said he was going to kill him. I just never thought he was serious. I wish I’d never asked him out in the first place.”

Myungsoo returned to his seat, and just as he was about to lower himself behind the table beside his lawyer, his eyes connected with Namjoon and there was an ever-so-slight twitch of his lips and a flicker of his eyelid. He winked at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to be sick,” Namjoon whispered as he climbed out of the pew and sped towards the door, the cuff of his blazer sleeve stifling his urge to cry before he was safe from prying eyes and reporters with their pens at the ready.

He didn’t see how his departure shattered what remained of Taehyung’s soul.

Namjoon didn’t return to the courtroom. They knew that their parts weren’t to be played until the second day of the trial so the only reason they had been there was for moral support. So Taehyung could see their faces amongst the sea of vultures and know that he wasn’t alone.

He had wanted to be the strong leader, to be unbreakable like Jin had told him he had to be, but he just couldn’t. Not when it was so blindingly obvious that they were losing this case and if Yoongi didn’t wake up with the ability to talk in the next few days, Taehyung was going to jail.

And he just couldn’t.

So he abandoned Jin and Hoseok in that courtroom and locked himself in a bathroom stall, sinking onto the floor without the slightest thought for the two thousand dollar suit he was now dirtying, and clutched at his phone with trembling fingers punching in the numbers.

“Hyung?” came Jimin’s hoarse voice from the other end of the line, sounding exhausted and terrified all at the same time. “I thought you said you weren’t going to be done until 8. Has something happened? Is Tae … Is Tae …?”

Namjoon wanted to tell him that Taehyung was fine but it was a lie, and he was done lying. He was done pretending that he was okay when he was broken inside and he was done pretending he was strong when he was sobbing on a public bathroom floor.

“Nothing happened, Chim,” he whispered, pressing his forehead into his phone screen with his eyes screwed shut and his body quivering. “Can you … Are you with Yoongi-hyung?”

“Yeah …”

Namjoon literally choked up his next words, having to repeat them several times before Jimin understood what he was saying.

“Can you let me hear him?”

That was where he sat for the next hour and a half, listening to the sound of Yoongi’s heartbeat. He heard the moment that Jimin and Jungkook changed shifts at their hyung’s bedside but the line remained open and he was eternally grateful. And when Hoseok finally found him, once the court had been adjourned and Taehyung had been frogmarched from the building, he had finally run out of tears to cry.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Namjoon didn’t sleep that night. He didn’t sleep at all.He heard Jimin crying in the bathroom at roughly three in the morning but he was too numb to even go and check on him, and it made him sick to his stomach. He had been masquerading as this mighty leader of the world’s biggest boyband – the strongest musical influence on the planet – and here he was too weak to even comfort his little brother.All he did was stare down at the notes Donghyun had given him, Hoseok and Jin to prepare them for the ruthless questioning at least one of them was doomed to endure the following day:What was safe to say, what wasn’t safe to say, tactics to avoid certain details that would make it all worse without lying under oath … He knew them all by heart. He felt prepared. As long as he didn’t look at Taehyung then he would be okay. As long as he didn’t see that broken boy he had failed to protect, everything would be fine.Just like Jin kept saying.Everything would be fine. --------------------  “Prosecution calls our first witness to the stand,” the voice boomed out in the perfect acoustics, reverberating off the towering walls and pinballing against the mighty ceiling.Namjoon tensed, readying himself to get to his feet and take the stand, but it wasn’t his name that was called.“Jung Hoseok.”Hoseok’s eyes snapped open and he turned to Namjoon and Jin with nothing short of terror plastered over his pale face, shaking his head frantically as though they would be able to do something about it.“Jung Hoseok,” the judge pushed and Jin gave Hoseok a shove towards the front of the courtroom, glaring at him with a gaze that said, ‘you have to do this whether you like it or not.’ Hoseok stumbled onto the stand, his feet scuffling on the small step and almost tripping him up in his petrification of what was to come. He glanced across the no man’s land at Taehyung and, if it was possible, his face lost another shade of colour.Taehyung hadn’t cried that day. That was what was the most worrying. He had just sat there, head leaning slightly to the side and eyes unfocused as the jury had listened to the testimonies of the police officers who’d arrived on the scene to find him cradling Yoongi’s body. He had barely even batted an eyelid when the doctor took the stand and described the medical report in graphic and – in Namjoon’s opinion – greatly unnecessary detail.At the sight of Hoseok gripping that wooden frame in front of him, though, Taehyung’s gaze lifted ever so slightly and a single tear slipped from his eye to glide gracefully down his face. It was even worse than the incessant sobbing the previous day.“Jung Hoseok, do you swear under court of law to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?”“Yes,” Hoseok mumbled, his voice cracking painfully and spurring him to try again with more conviction. “Yes, I do.”“Okay,” the lawyer started and Namjoon already knew they’d lost. Hoseok was too fragile for this. He couldn’t handle it and that was why they’d chosen him. Because they knew he would break. “What was your first impression of Kang Myungsoo?”Hoseok’s eyes flickered to Jin and Namjoon before he spoke, clutching at the glass of water he’d been provided with both hands.“I liked him,” he admitted solemnly. “The first time I met him, I liked him, yes, but I changed my mind after …”“And did Kang Myungsoo appear to have a healthy relationship with Kim Taehyung when you saw them together for the first time?” the lawyer interrupted, strategically cutting Hoseok off before he could finish.“Well … I …”“May I remind you that you are under oath, Mr Jung.”“Yes, they looked happy together.”“And when did Kim Taehyung confide in you about this alleged abuse he was suffering?”Namjoon clenched his fists in his lap, nails digging mercilessly into his palms. Alleged. He hated that word. Alleged. It just sounded filthy in his mouth.“Well, he didn’t exactly …” Hoseok almost whispered before repeating himself slightly louder at the gesture from the lawyer. “He didn’t exactly tell us. We just … We just knew.”“You just knew?” the lawyer repeated, eyebrows raised sceptically and arms folded smugly over his chest. “And how, may I ask, did you just know?”“I …” Hoseok faltered and Namjoon could see the cogs of panic whirring in his brain. “He started missing practise and stopped hanging out with us as much and he just didn’t … he didn’t seem right.”Namjoon winced. What Hoseok had just described was standard of a young person investing themselves in a new relationship and the prosecution grabbed onto the slipup with both hands.“So you believed that Kim Taehyung was being abused because he wasn’t spending as much time with you after he started dating Kang Myungsoo?”“No!” Hoseok cried and there was a hint of fury to his tone so profound that Namjoon was worried he might start screaming. “It was more than that! Yoongi-hyung said he didn’t like Myungsoo or the way he touched Tae and he said there was something off about them. He knew before the rest of us did.”“And Min Yoongi is the hyung you are referring to here?”“Yes.”“And Min Yoongi is the one with whom Kim Taehyung had the argument before the incident in question?”“No …” Hoseok stuttered. “I mean, yes, but it was all of us involved that day.”“And Min Yoongi is currently residing in a coma at the hospital, am I correct?”“Yes, because Myungsoo put him there!”“Jung Hoseok,” the judge interrupted harshly. “I would ask you not to speculate.”“It’s not speculation because it’s true!” Hoseok shouted and Jin raised his hands slightly, not so that anyone else could see, but just enough to indicate to Hoseok that he needed to calm himself down. “Myungsoo hurt Yoongi-hyung!”“Jung Hoseok, I ask you to please lower your voice,” the lawyer instructed and Hoseok sputtered into an infuriated silence, glowering at the disgusting creature in front of him with every ounce of hate that could fit in his bright body.They know exactly what they’re doing, Namjoon thought. They’re discrediting Hoseok. They’re twisting everything he says and they’re making him sound like he’s just trying to protect Taehyung. They know exactly how to work this the way they want it.“So if I may recap,” the lawyer spoke up, glancing down at the notes in front of him. “Mr Jung, you have stated that you – and I quote – ‘just knew’ Kim Taehyung was suffering from abuse because he was skipping practises and not spending as much time with you as he did before, all of which are things you would expect of someone who has just entered a new relationship. And you have also said that the only person who disapproved of Kim Taehyung’s romantic involvement with Kang Myungsoo – and was in fact the one who got into a confrontation with Kim Taehyung on the same day of his possibly-life-threatening injury – appears to be the only one who is unable to testify at the moment. Doesn’t that seem a little convenient to you, Mr Jung? Min Yoongi argues with Kim Taehyung about who he chooses to date and coincidentally winds up in the hospital that very same day?”“Objection!” Donghyun cried from the opposing table, raising his hand in the air to signal all attention be turned to him.“Withdrawn,” the lawyer surrendered. “No further questions, Your Honour.”He returned to his seat and Hoseok was left sitting in stunned silence as he processed what he’d just done and how he’d just incriminated Taehyung even further by insinuating he had attacked Yoongi for disapproving of his boyfriend.He had made things worse. And everybody knew it.  “Court adjourned,” the judge barked, making Hoseok jump in his seat at the sudden interruption of the stony silence the room had fallen into. “The trial will continue at 12:45pm tomorrow.”The gavel collided with its wooden counterpart and the jury burst into discussion, their heads leaning together as they poured over the notes scribbled on their clipboards. They were discussing Taehyung’s future. In their inexperienced hands lay the life of a boy. Literally a boy. Not even halfway through his 20s.“Taehyung!” Hoseok shouted before he could stop himself, staggering out of the box and towards where the officers were pulling Taehyung to the doors. “Taehyung, I’m sorry!”A guard caught him around the middle, restraining his lean body with ease and dragging him away from his dongsaeng’s retreating back. Taehyung hadn’t even turned his head at the sound of his hyung’s call. His gaze was fixed on the floor in front of him as his feet carried him numbly through the door and out of sight.“Taehyung!” Hoseok continued to yell, fighting against the arms that held him with everything he had, cursing the tears that refused to stay hidden. “Taehyung! Let me go! Let me see him! Taehyung!”“Hoseok, stop!” Sejin ordered, his face looming out of nowhere as he ripped the police officer’s arms off his artist and secured his own iron-tight grip. “You’re making a scene and it’s doing nothing to help Taehyung.”Hoseok gave up. He just gave up, sagging into his manager’s arms with his face buried in the older man’s chest as he ripped and tore at his own hair.“I’m sorry … I’m sorry … I’m sorry …” he sobbed as Sejin looped a hand around his elbow and steered him gently towards the great double doors at the end of the room.There were people watching him. Reporters with their cameras held aloft, the prosecution lawyer with a sneer of triumph and then Myungsoo. Myungsoo with that ridiculous brace on his arm and a cruel, sadistic, twisted smirk on his face.Hoseok wanted to lunge for him and wrap his hands around that throat, choking the life out of the worthless body and stamping on its broken bones. But Sejin heaved him from the room before his devastated mind even had a chance to process what he truly wanted.Namjoon and Seokjin were already outside, sealed off from the public by the bodyguards that stood around them, hands clasped professionally behind broad backs and expert eyes sweeping the area for potential threats.They were conversing with Donghyun, heads bowed and expressions anxious and as Hoseok and Sejin drew nearer, the conversation became clear.“Tell me we can still win this,” Namjoon was pleading. “Tell me you have something that will turn this around. Please tell me.”And Donghyun looked down at the files clutched in his grip, at the faces of the four men in front of him and he shook his head. Once to the left. Once to the right. Such a small gesture, such a powerful meaning.“I don’t,” he admitted.And Hoseok’s world was blown to smithereens. ----------------        Namjoon waved to the road at the foot of the driveway to indicate to the security guard that he and Jin hadn’t died on the way to their front door. Behind him, the eldest slotted the key into the lock and they dragged themselves over the threshold.“Coffee?” Namjoon grunted as he struggled with the tie he could have sworn had been growing in tightness the whole day.“Beer,” Jin responded flatly, already slouching into the kitchen.Namjoon wanted to stop him, to tell him that he couldn’t afford to be hungover when they were due back in court the next day. When Taehyung would receive the verdict. But he couldn’t find it in his heart to deny Jin the feeling of numbness and the guarantee of a dreamless sleep.So instead, he dragged his weary feet into the living room and collapsed into the nearest chair, propping his elbow on the arm and settling his cheek in his hand, blinking through the tears.“Hyung?”He opened his eyes and registered, for the first time, Jimin and Jungkook laid out on the couch. Jungkook was stretched over the length of the cushions, Jimin curled around him with his head on the maknae’s chest, purring softly in sleep as Jungkook ran his fingers through the flossy pink hair.“How did it go? Where’s Hobi-hyung?”“Sejin took him to the spend the night with Yoongi at the hospital,” Namjoon supplied, watching as Jimin gave a sleepy sigh, turning his head over on Jungkook’s chest to face the cushions.He left out the part about the video online that had already gone viral. Of Hoseok throwing himself into the arms of police officers, screaming Taehyung’s name before Sejin practically dragged him, sobbing hysterically, from the room.Why had it come to this? Why had it gone so wrong? They had worked so hard on that album, compiling everything they had into the production, the composition, the choreography, and the glory they should have all been basking in at this exact moment was marred with guilt and fear and numb despair.“Is Tae-hyung coming home tomorrow?” Jungkook whispered from the couch, Bambi eyes wide in the dim light. Namjoon couldn’t tell him the truth. But he couldn’t lie to him either.“Kook,” he said, levering himself out of the chair and pacing across the room to sit on the edge of the couch, rubbing a hand over Jimin’s shoulder as he looked down at Jungkook’s expectant face, imploring him to bear the good news he didn’t have. “I want you to know that whatever happens, the hyungs will look after you, okay?”Jungkook just stared up at him, blinking and blank and bewildered.“We’re going to look after you,” Namjoon repeated softly, a lone tear gliding down his face when Jimin mumbled the word ‘hyung …’ in his sleep. “No matter what happens with … with Tae or with … with … with Yoongi-hyung, we are going to be right here for you and Chim, alright?”“Alright.”

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“Red, are you deaf? I said go the fuck to sleep.”Taehyung winced at the irritated quip from the bunk bed above him. He whispered a barely-audible apology and turned off the torch, plunging the cell into a void of inky black so that the words he’d been scribbling onto a napkin were no longer visible.“Fucking finally,” came the grunt of approval and Taehyung listened to the sound of his cellmate shifting on the mattress above his head.It wasn’t as bad as it sounded. For the most part, Minchul was alright. He didn’t hit him or feel him up or even pay him much attention at all. The second Taehyung had been shoved in there, the huge man made of muscle and moustache had sized him up with small beady eyes, nicknamed him ‘Red’ because of his faded hair and then continued about his business.But Taehyung knew he was dangerous. Taehyung had heard the stories. So Taehyung stayed on his good side.He tucked the napkin into one of the springs on the underside of Minchul’s bed and then reached over to pull the blankets on top of him, curling up into the foetal position to preserve as much warmth as he could. It was cold in here. It was always cold. Even when it was hot, it was still cold.But he couldn’t close his eyes. He could feel the tentacles of sleep reaching desperately out for him, begging to entangle him in their seductive hold, but he knew that the second he succumbed, he would be subjected to the mercy of the nightmares.The nightmares where he saw Myungsoo’s face looming over him and felt the hands on his body and watched as Yoongi hit that hearth. And he couldn’t close his eyes.Tomorrow was the most important day of his life. Tomorrow, he would find out whether he lived or died. Tomorrow, he would know whether or not that noose made of blankets underneath his bed was going to take his life.Because he was not going to live in prison. He was not going to live with the knowledge he’d been found guilty of trying to murder his own hyung. If the judge sentenced him, he was not going to live at all.  “Kim Taehyung!”Taehyung jumped, rolling over on the mattress so quickly that he almost toppled onto the floor. Minchul grunted from out of sight but Taehyung’s sole attention was focused on the prison guard standing at the bars.He blinked, rubbing at his eyes with a white-knuckled fist, before he registered the sunlight streaming in through the windows and realised that morning had come terrifyingly fast. Only a second ago, it had still been night and he still had time but now both of those things were gone.“Open up 43!” the corrections officer barked and there was a screech of grinding metal as the cell door slid open.Taehyung scrambled off his bed, reaching for his shoes and tugging them obediently onto his feet so that when the officer had managed to unhook the handcuffs from his belt, he was already standing there with his wrists exposed.“Hey, Red?”He looked up to see a bushy moustache and bloodshot eyes protruding from underneath a blanket just level with his head, and nodded to indicate to Minchul that he was listening attentively.“Don’t come back.”Taehyung wished it were that simple. ----------------       The reporters swamped the van the second it pulled to a stop and Taehyung flinched at the density of their ranks, flashing cameras creating a sea of popping lights that would have stopped an epileptic’s heart. Taehyung had never thought he would be wishing he was epileptic.“Are you ready?” the officer in front of him whispered, and there was a hint of sympathy in his eyes.This man knew Taehyung was just a kid. This man knew Taehyung was terrified and this man knew Taehyung had to be ready before he faced that onslaught of roaches and vultures just begging for a piece of flesh to snag for their articles.He reached up with his cuffed hands and wiped the last traces of the tears from his eyes before nodding solemnly and sliding out of his chair.The officer took his arm, fingers wrapping firmly around the spot just above his elbow and although Taehyung knew it was precaution and meant to be a gesture of restraint and intimidation, it somehow comforted him. It made him feel that there was someone there to protect him, even if they were walking him to his death.The door slid open and the chaos ensued. There were screams of his name like there had been so many times before, but this time they were hoping for a picture for different reasons. So they could plaster it on the front of a newspaper with the caption: “WORLDWIDE SINGER TRIES TO MURDER BANDMATE”.There was another officer on his other side and several more in front of him, ploughing a pathway through the crowd and just when Taehyung was on the verge of tears once more, the guard who had asked him if he was ready was suddenly putting a hand on his head and pushing it down. To hide his face. To protect him. To shield him from further humiliation.“Kim Taehyung, do you regret what you did?”“Kim Taehyung, is there anything you want to say to your bandmates?”“Kim Taehyung, are you aware that Min Yoongi almost died two days ago?”Taehyung’s head snapped up, whipping to the left to try and catch a glimpse of whoever had said that. The reporter – a woman with ugly ginger hair and too much lipstick – knew she’d hit a nerve and suddenly the entire ocean seemed to be screaming Yoongi’s name, hoping for a reaction.But the officers heaved Taehyung into the courthouse and slammed the doors behind them before he could break down in front of the starving cameras. And the second he was safe, Taehyung crumbled. He sank to his knees on the ground with his cuffed hands clutching at the front of his prison overalls and sobbed as loudly and as pathetically as he wanted.“Come on,” the guard whispered in his ear, hands trying to pull him to his feet, but he refused. “Come on, Kim, this isn’t helping your hyungs at all. You can’t be late for your own trial.”Taehyung was late for his own trial. --------------- He was allowed to make an ending statement and Donghyun said it was vital he got it right. It was his last chance to convince the jury he was telling the truth, and if he couldn’t do that then the napkin tucked into the bottom of Minchul’s bed would become his suicide note.He had tried to write some stuff down, to prepare himself for the grand finale, but then he’d realised he didn’t need to. He knew exactly what he was going to say and he knew exactly who he was going to look at when he said it: the man who had changed his life, and not how he had wanted him to.“My name is Kim Taehyung,” he choked as he rose to his feet behind the stand, avoiding Namjoon, Jin and Hoseok’s eye contact at all costs. He couldn’t look at them while he was doing this. This had to be him and him alone. And this time, he didn’t care if he cried.“And two weeks ago, I pretended to be ordering a pizza as I called my hyung and begged him to come and get me away from this man who wanted to bundle me onto a plane and take me across the world so he could give me more bruises without my members being able to stand in his way.And when Yoongi-hyung got there, I hid in the corner and cried as I watched the person I thought was my boyfriend choking the life out of him before slamming his head into solid concrete and standing over his bleeding body with a look of triumph on his face.So I stabbed him. I picked up a butter knife from the coffee table and I lodged it into his shoulder. I admit to it. I never denied it. And it makes me sick to my stomach that I hurt somebody like that but do I regret it? No. Because he hurt my hyung. And he was going to abduct me. I saw him standing over Yoongi’s bleeding body and the only thing I could think was, ‘he wants to finish the job. He wants to finish the job and then he’s going to take me away where I’ll never be able to get Yoongi-hyung to a hospital and he’s going to die.’”His throat clogged up and his voice cracked but he kept going, oblivious to the tears that were sliding steadily down his face to create moist splodges on his prison overalls and deliberately ignoring the way Hoseok had buried his face in Jin’s neck with his entire body trembling in horrified devastation.“I stabbed him. I aimed for the shoulder because I didn’t want to kill him – I would never want to kill anybody, I’m not God – but I did want to hurt him. To protect my hyung. So yeah, I stabbed him, and if that makes me a criminal then I’ll go to jail. Without a fuss, without a protest, without making a scene, I will go and do my time. But I did not hurt my hyung. I would never hurt my hyung. And if he dies, it’s my fault because I did nothing when he needed me, but I did not hurt him. I …”There was a distinct whine to his voice now as he held back the urge to burst into tears but no matter how hard he cried or how pathetic it made him look, he couldn’t turn his gaze from Myungsoo’s hardened expression of blank fury.“I love him,” Taehyung whimpered. “I love my hyung so much and I would never hurt him. So please don’t tell me I did.”Donghyun gave him a subtle smile as he took his seat once more, wishing more than anything he could pull his knees up to his chest and shrivel into a ball so he could protect himself from what was coming next. From Myungsoo’s final speech.He could feel Namjoon’s attempts to catch his eye but he couldn’t raise his head. He was crying too hard for his skull to be light enough to lift. And the only thing that was present in his mind as he watched Myungsoo take the stand out of the corner of his eye, was that reporter’s voice echoing from the crowd of squawking vultures.“Are you aware that Min Yoongi almost died two days ago?”So he blocked Myungsoo out. He dampened his senses and dissociated from the oversized prison getup that hung off his skin, the handcuffs digging into his wrists, the voices around him and the cameras in the corners of the room, hungry lenses just waiting to capture a tasty morsel.
“I thought Taehyung and I were going to be together forever. I thought he was the one.”
And he thought of Yoongi. And Seokjin. And Hoseok. And Namjoon. And Jungkook. And Jimin. He thought about the new dance routines they had practised so hard, collapsing on the studio floor with sweat fusing their shirts to their backs but smiles still omnipresent on their flushed faces.
“He always talked about how he hated the way the members treated him like a little kid, how he wished they would just accept his maturity and his talent rather than only seeing him as the baby they had to protect from the world.”  
He thought about standing in the recording studio with Jungkook, laughing as his voice cracked on the high notes and having to take a ten minute break when his dongsaeng copied his supersonic screech. He thought about showing his new song to Namjoon, bouncing slightly in his chair as he watched his hyung’s lips spread wide in a smile as the melody trickled from the computer speakers.
“I loved him. I swear to God, I loved him so much, and I don’t know how things went so wrong. One minute, we’re the perfect couple and the next, he’s strangling his bandmate in the middle of my living room.”
He thought of Hoseok having a mental breakdown over Jin’s inability to perfect a particular move and Jimin’s suggestive smirk as he lay across Taehyung’s lap in the studio waiting room and Yoongi … Just Yoongi.
“I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do. I know I should have stopped him, I should have tried harder to get him off. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think about Yoongi bleeding onto my carpet.”
He didn’t have a specific memory or moment that filtered through his mind. It was just Yoongi. His smile, his laugh, his little screams of excitement when he got really hyper. His banter with Hoseok, his scoffs at Jin’s jokes, the way his eyes closed when he rapped and his mouth quirked when he finished a verse.
“And every time I reach for something and remember I may never be able to move my arm again, I’m reminded of the pain I felt when that knife was embedded in my shoulder. I could feel it there, just sticking out of my body, and I couldn’t do anything to move it.”
Just Yoongi.  
“Taehyung left me there as he ran to Yoongi. I was awake but I couldn’t move and I could hear him crying and saying he was sorry over and over. I think something snapped in him and he finally realised what he’d done, but I was still there and still bleeding and still in so much pain and he just left me.”
He loved Yoongi. And Jiminie. And Hoseok. And Namjoon. And Jungkookie. And Seokjin. He loved his members.
“For that, I want him to pay.”
He loved his members more than anything. And if that word ‘guilty’ was shouted out across the hall, he would made sure he told them he loved them.
“We will take a short break while the jury come to a verdict.”
And then he would kill himself.Life wasn’t worth living if he couldn’t do it with them. If the world thought he’d killed his hyung. Life wasn’t worth living if he wasn’t living with them. And the guilt would be over, too. The guilt of remaining curled up in that corner while Yoongi suffocated right in front of him. The guilt of calling him there in the first place, summoning him to his potential death. The guilt of what he’d said to Namjoon and Jungkook and all the others. The guilt of not listening to them. The guilt of trusting Myungsoo over them.The guilt.So much guilt.
“Have you reached a verdict?”
But he loved his members.
“We have, your honour.”
He would love them until he died.
“And what would that be?”
Even if that time was only a few hours away.
“On the charges of attempted murder, we find the defendant … ”
He loved his members.
“Guilty.”
He loved them with all his heart.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

To Namjoon, it felt like a gunshot. Not that he had ever been shot but that single word spat from the mouth of a man they had never seen before and yet somehow had been deemed worthy enough to hold Taehyung’s future in his hands, ripped through his chest and buried itself into his heart.His hand actually crawled up his shirt, as though he could literally feel the blood dribbling down his skin. But there was no blood. And there was no gunshot. And Taehyung had just been found guilty of trying to kill Yoongi.He wished there was a bullet, and he wished it was in his head. Because now he was the leader of the group that would go down in history. But not because they had broken world records and raised mountains of cash for UNICEF. He would now forever be remembered as the man who had led the group with one member in prison and one member either a vegetable or dead.Nothing mattered anymore. He had failed. It was over.Beside him, Hoseok had his head in Jin’s lap, facedown as his hyung stroked his hair and both of them sobbed silently. In front of him, Taehyung sat in the box with heavy-lidded eyes rimmed in red and a face that held not even a smidgen of colour. He looked lifeless.And the world was over.“Your Honour!”Namjoon’s eyes raised, his mind still numb and fuzzy and dissociated but still somehow managing to process the woman that was stalking her way up to the front of the courthouse.She climbed up behind the judge’s table and he leaned over so that she could whisper something into his ear. The jury, that had previously been alive with muttering and scribbling and cries of relief or of horror, fell silent as they watched the curious exchange between the two people at the head of the room.Donghyun turned around in his seat and Namjoon caught his eye, pulling an expression that clearly stated ‘what the hell is going on?’ only to be met with the lawyer’s equal amount of confusion.Then the judge spoke, and Namjoon wondered if God had been listening to his prayers after all.“New evidence has come to light. Court will adjourn until the matter has been investigated.”The gavel collided with its wooden holster, making Hoseok jump from where he was still slumped over Jin with lifeless elasticity, and before Namjoon could even get a word out of his mouth, Taehyung was already being manhandled through the back door.The leader of the world’s now most infamous boyband leapt out of his seat, literally vaulting over the pew in front of him to avoid having to climb over Hoseok and Jin. Sejin hissed something in his direction but he ignored the incoherent order and dodged the hand that shot out to snag at his blazer sleeve.“Donghyun-ssi?” he called as he reached the front, grabbing at the lawyer’s arm and turning the man to face him. “What’s happening? Why didn’t they sentence him?”“I don’t know,” Donghyun confessed, conflicted eyes roving over the animatedly gossiping audience that had come to witness Taehyung’s legalised torture, as cameras continued to click and capture the image of Kim Namjoon’s desperate failure face. “I’ll find out. You need to get Hoseok and Seokjin out of here though. The media will attack them and you have to be a leader right now, more than ever.”‘But I don’t want to be’ is what Namjoon wanted to say. And it was the truth. Why did it have to be his duty to be strong when he was just as much of a kid as all the others? This is not what he had signed up for. This was not in the job description. But these were the lemons life had given and no matter how poisoned and diseased they were, he had to make the lemonade.“Okay,” he muttered and Donghyun patted him hastily on the shoulder before the two of them split, the lawyer storming up to the judge and the leader hurrying forwards to pull Hoseok from Jin’s lap.“We have to go,” he whispered and that’s exactly what they did with police officers and Sejin flanking them on all sides to protect them from the onslaught of reporters chipping away at the chinks in their crumbling armour.As if they still had any at all.   --------------------       The second the words left Donghyun’s lips, they were already out the door. Sejin had been too slow, needing to ask questions and organise security, so Jin had leapt in the driver’s seat and they had left their manager, red-faced and furious, at the courthouse. Namjoon would have felt guilty and worried for his job but at this point, he had literally nothing to lose.“Hyung, speed limit,” he warned as the red needle began to push dangerously close to the cut-off point where they would become law-breakers.“Namjoon, are you really going to tell me to watch my speed after what we just heard?” Jin growled back, his grip so tight on the steering wheel that Namjoon was surprised he hadn’t lost sensation in the tips of his fingers. And for the first time in his life, he was afraid of his hyung.“No.”“Good.”They ditched their jackets and ties in the back of the car, barely even remembering to turn off the engine and take the keys as they bolted through the hospital front doors. There were people who whipped around to watch them go, there were shouts of “it’s BTS!” and similar quips but the three of them were oblivious.Hoseok was fastest. Hoseok was fittest and Hoseok was the most desperate. When the lift didn’t immediately open its metal arms to accommodate them, they took the stairs, three at a time, and finally burst out into the ICU.Jimin and Jungkook were standing at the end of the corridor, faces buried in each other’s necks and arms snaked around each other’s bodies as Hoseok yelled out to them.“Chim! Kook!”They raised their heads, displaying puffy eyes, snotty noses and tear-stained cheeks and Hoseok engulfed them both in his arms the second he reached them. Namjoon skidded to a stop, watching and gasping for breath as Jin joined the embrace, the four of them entwined and clutching at each other as though the world would end if they let go.For so long, they just stood like that without speaking. None of them even had the words they needed, and Namjoon merely watched from the sidelines. He was afraid to initiate contact. He was frightened that if he touched them, they would break just like everything else he’d ever tried to hold.Jungkook was barely coherent when he tried to speak, buried under too many layers of bodies and they all had to let go just to hear the words he was trying to say through soggy gulps for air.“I …” he sobbed, digging the heels of his hands into his eye sockets to gouge at the tears impeding his explanation. “I thought he was … I thought he was dying again.”Jimin was clinging to the maknae like a koala, face obscured by the bulky hoodie he had pulled over his head and tiny hands clutching at the kid’s arm. It was a devastating sight.“The machines started beeping and his hands were twitching and … and I thought ‘this is it’.” Say it, Namjoon prayed. God, please say it, Kookie, because I need to hear it from you. “And I yelled for the doctors,” Jungkook hiccupped, leaning his head against Jimin’s as though he could take comfort in that simple gesture of contact. “And everything was crazy and I thought he was gone … I really, really thought he was gone.”
Please say it. Please, Kookie, please say it.
“And then he looked at me,” Jungkook gasped, watery gaze travelling over Jin’s shoulder and straight into Namjoon’s face so that he could give this precious information to the one person who needed it the most at that moment. “He looked at me, hyung. He woke up and he looked right at me.”He smiled. A smile that was literally dripping in sadness and yet held all the joy the world could possibly gift a single person. A smile. Just a smile. So simple. So beautiful.“He woke up.” ------------------       He was guilty.Guilty.Guilty.Guilty.Guilty.When you repeated certain words one too many times, they start to sound alien to the tongue but no matter how many repetitions he forced his lips to form as he lay face down in his pillow, it still meant the same thing.Guilty.Guilty of attempted murder.  Guilty of attempting to murder his hyung.Guilty.Guilty forever.It didn’t matter what evidence they had turfed up because he was guilty. He didn’t care that they’d manhandled him out of that courtroom before he had a chance to ask what was happening and why they weren’t fashioning his sentence, because he was guilty. Nothing was of any importance anymore, because he was guilty.And Myungsoo was free. Free to prey on another boy who was too naïve and self-absorbed to realise what he would inevitably do to them. How he would hit them, force himself on them, try to kill their friends and then blame it all on their young and fragile figures.He had failed to protect those future souls from the same torture he had endured and for that, he was just as guilty as he would have been if he had slammed Yoongi’s head into that hearth himself.Guilty.It was over. His reputation, his image, his life. There was nothing worth existing for. Attempted murder charges stretched all the way up to life behind bars. Add an aggravated assault on top of that and he could kiss breathing fresh air again goodbye.So why breathe at all? Why continue to survive in a world that had labelled him a criminal? He had told himself he would do it and now … There was nothing stopping him. There was nothing to live for. The hyungs and Jungkook, maybe, but would they really want anything to do with him now? After he had wrecked their lives?He rolled onto his back and reached up to the underside of Minchul’s bed, wriggling his pre-written note out of the springs. He grazed over it, eyes squinting in order to make out the letters in the sparse light, and he knew that the time for running was over.  
But he loved his members.
Minchul was sound asleep. He wouldn’t hear a thing.
He would love them until he died.
All he had to do was roll up the bed sheets, tight enough to tie.
Even if that time was only a few moments away.
He wondered if it would hurt or if it would be quick and painless.
He loved his members.
Now it was just the jump. Take a deep breath and jump.
He loved them with all his heart.
“I’m sorry.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

They weren’t allowed to see him.They weren’t allowed to see Yoongi and it was a billion times worse than wondering whether or not he was going to die because now they knew he was awake and they knew he was probably scared and confused and they had no way of getting to him.So instead, they just sat. And paced. And bit their nails. And snapped at each other for the smallest things. Sejin had managed to get them into a private relatives’ room where they wouldn’t be subjected to the snapping jaws of the public eye, and now all they were allowed to do was sit, pace, bite their nails and snap at each other for the smallest things.Hoseok had tried just barging into the ICU but they’d put two police officers at the doors.“You cannot interact with a key witness until they have been interviewed,” they’d said and Jungkook had needed to physically restrain Hoseok from punching them in the face.It seemed absurd, expecting Yoongi to be able to talk let alone relive and recount the brutal assault that had left him comatose and barely alive for almost five weeks. The tube would probably remain in his throat for a long time considering how severe the damage had been to his trachea and they still had no idea if he even knew his own name.  That had been almost three hours ago, and none of them were prepared to leave any time soon. Namjoon had tried to convince himself that any minute now, the doctor would stride in and tell them the police had somehow managed to extract Yoongi’s statement and therefore they would be able to wrap him in their arms and tell him how thankful they were to see his eyes. But he knew that possibility was slim to nothing.“Hyung?” Jimin croaked from where he was hugging his knees in the corner of the sofa, head resting against Jin’s shoulder. “Your phone’s ringing.”Namjoon looked up, his hand already wandering to his pocket before he realised Jimin had been talking to Sejin. The manager fished his phone from his jacket, clearly having spaced out and missed the vibration against his chest, and pushed himself out of his chair with a groan.“Hello?” he growled out, voice rough with the stress they were all feeling. “Yes, speaking …”Namjoon saw the moment his hyung’s shoulders tensed, his back straightened, his grip tightened and his eyes snapped to the boy group leader’s face. And Namjoon knew something was terribly wrong.“What is it?” he whispered, scrambling off the floor he’d been curled up on and ignoring the pops in his knees and back. “Is it Yoongi-hyung?”But Sejin turned away from him, hand gripping a fistful of his own hair as he continued to listen to whatever travesty was being conveyed to him on the other end of the phone.“Okay …” he was saying, breathing laboured and legs trembling. “But he’s … he’s alive, right? He’s okay?”Namjoon’s heart skipped a beat. Whatever this was – whether it was Yoongi or not – it was bad. Very, very bad.“Are we allowed to … Oh, God … Okay … Thank you … Yes, thank you.”Namjoon knew how desperate they must all look to Sejin as he turned back around to face them, his skin tinted grey and his eyes laden heavy. He and Namjoon were the only ones standing, the others sprawled/shrivelled on the floor or the furniture, and there was a kind of silent exchange that travelled between leader and manager.“Tell us,” Namjoon whispered, too terrified to speak any louder. “Tell us right now.”Sejin sucked a breath through his teeth and then let it out, his entire body seeming to deflate with the expulsion of so much air. He pointed to the chair he had only just recently occupied, silently ordering Namjoon to sit before he spoke.“Taehyung’s in the ER downstairs.”It seemed that everybody had been expecting a sudden outburst of frantic questions and indistinct cries of horror, and so they were all surprised when nobody said a word or made a sound. Nobody even breathed.Their minds had by now adjusted to trauma. It didn’t even affect them anymore because they were numbed and immunised and too exhausted to react the way they should have done.It took the next sentence to snap them out of their reveries of silent torture.“He tried to hang himself.”There was a split second where everybody processed the new and grotesquely horrifying information before Namjoon used the arms of the chair to push himself to his feet, elbows wobbling dangerously as they tried to support his weight.“Stay here,” he choked out, pointing a finger at the others before he staggered towards the door.He expected someone – Sejin or Jin – to follow him but neither of them did. They were all paralysed to the spot, too stunned to do anything more than breathe, if they were even managing to do that.Namjoon didn’t know why he was different. Perhaps it was some kind of leader instinct clawing at his chest, ordering him to protect and defend and comfort, but he found himself speeding on autopilot towards the emergency department.Lifts were dangerous when you were a celebrity, trapped with somebody who could possibly want to harm or harass you, so instead his subconscious followed the signs to the stairs.Taehyung had tried to kill himself. Taehyung had given up just when they’d been granted the first sliver of hope in weeks. Did he not know? Had no one told him that his hyung had finally opened his eyes? Is that why he’d done it? Because he thought he’d been found guilty of almost murdering his best friend?He must have been so desperate. Desperate not to go to prison. Desperate not to live as a criminal. Desperate not to live at all.It didn’t take a genius to deduce where Taehyung was. The correctional officers stationed outside the private emergency room were the biggest giveaway, their backs straight, their hands clasped in front of them and their beady eyes catching Namjoon the second he came into their view.They must have known who he was because the one on the left instantly raised a restraining hand, indicating for the leader to draw to a stop before he obliterated the final barrier between him and Taehyung.“Sir, you can’t go in there.”“Why not?” Namjoon spat. He didn’t dare try to push past them. That would get him arrested. So instead, he stood toe to toe with the biggest one, arms folded and expression dangerous. He wanted to appear threatening. He wanted to show them he wasn’t here to be denied entry. “Give me one reason why I can’t see him.”“Kim Taehyung is currently on trial for attempted murder and therefore cannot interact with any possible witnesses or the court risks …”“No!” Namjoon yelled, and it took everything he had within him not to jab a finger into that stab-proof vest. “Kim Taehyung is currently in that room, scared and hurt and needing his hyung. I have not been allowed to see him, talk to him or touch him for weeks, and unless you haven’t noticed, the trial is postponed! I’m not a witness, he is not currently doing anything except lying in that bed and I swear to God if one more person keeps me from seeing one of my members, there will be hell to pay! So for the last time, sir, let me see my little brother!”He was starting to attract attention with the increasing volume of his tirade, nurses, orderlies and fellow patients glancing suspiciously over at him as though he might start throwing punches. But he didn’t care.He was already barred from Yoongi. He would not be barred from Taehyung too. Never again. If they didn’t let him through in the following ten seconds, they would have to arrest him because he was willing to throw his life away if it meant he could hold Tae’s hand for just a moment.That was why he was almost too surprised to respond when the correctional officer stuck out a muscular arm and pushed the door open. Namjoon stumbled slightly before bowing 90 degrees, choking out half a dozen thank you’s and apologies before throwing himself into the next room.The sight that met him almost brought him to his knees, a strangled cry of despair spilling from his mouth without permission.For the last twenty-five days, he had only glimpsed Taehyung across a courtroom, the body of his dongsaeng having been concealed behind a wall of wood and glass and prison guards. Only now that he was so close up could he see the weightloss.The kid’s cheeks were sallow and sunken. His collarbones were more prominent than they had ever been in living memory. His jawline would have cut diamond. His wrists were so thin that the hospital bracelet was on its tightest strap and yet still left an astronomical amount of room.His eyes were closed and his skin was grey, his lips and fingernails tinged blue from the asphyxiation, and there was an oxygen mask strapped to his face. He looked so frail and tiny, shrivelled and starved, and as Namjoon got closer, it was the bruising on his dongsaeng’s neck that truly brought the first wave of tears.“Oh, God …”He grabbed for Taehyung’s hand and only cried harder when he saw the metal cuff keeping that skinny wrist fastened to the bed frame. If he’d had the energy, he would have been angry. Did they really think Taehyung would be able to get up and do a runner in his condition?“I’m so sorry, Tae …” Namjoon whispered, his hands fretting uselessly over the prone body before he finally rested one on the kid’s arm and another in his hair. “Hyung’s here now. Hyung’s got you. You’re going to be fine. Everything’s going to be fine.”You’d have thought they would have learnt to stop saying that by now.   ----------------- “Neck was not broken …”“Could only have been suspended for roughly thirty seconds …”“Cellmate cut him down and alerted the guards …”“Throat is severely bruised …”“Most likely won’t be able to talk for a couple of days …”“No brain damage from what we can tell …”“He was incredibly lucky …”“But we’re a little concerned that he doesn’t appear to be waking …”For the second time in the last few weeks, Taehyung was listening to a doctor as he lay on a hospital bed, feigning unconsciousness. No one knew he could have opened his eyes a good twelve hours ago because the truth was, he didn’t want to.He didn’t want to survive. He didn’t want to live. He wished he could curse Minchul aloud, screaming his name at the sky as he called him every single filthy profanity he could think of. It was kind of ironic really that a murderer had saved his life.A murderer saving a murderer. Or an attempted murderer. Or maybe by now he was a murderer. God knows how long he’d been handcuffed to a hospital bed with his throat itching and his head throbbing and the heart monitor beeping steadily beside him. Yoongi could have died by now.“Taehyungie?”Namjoon was talking to him again. Namjoon was always talking to him. He wondered if Namjoon had left the room even once since he’d got here. He seemed to be able to feel the presence of his leader every waking moment, even when there weren’t long slender fingers wrapped around his hand and a voice reciting meaningless mantras above him.“Please wake up, Taehyungie.”But Taehyung didn’t want to. He didn’t want to face the world that had condemned him, that had failed him, that hadn’t saved him when he hadn’t even realised he’d needed saving. If he had to remain in a fake coma until he died of starvation then so be it. He was done.“Jiminie and Kookie really want to see you.”Then he had to go and play the maknae card. It made it even harder to resist opening his eyes and screaming for his members to envelop him in their arms. He wanted to feel Jimin’s head tucked under his chin and Jungkook’s hands on his face so desperately that it physically hurt his chest every time Namjoon said their names. But he wouldn’t be able to look them in the eye. Not after he’d wrecked their lives.“Jin-hyung and Hobi too. We all really miss you.”They’d better get used to it. Taehyung wouldn’t be giving them what they wanted because he knew they didn’t really want it at all. They were just lonely. They needed to have a change in their lives and so they were begging him for his survival without realising that the only person they really wanted was Yoongi.“Donghyun called.”The lawyer? Taehyung wondered if he was calling to apologise for failing to win the case. He hoped the others had forgiven him on the spot. Not even the best defence committee in the world could have saved Taehyung from the inevitable. He was guilty even before he walked into that courtroom.“He said they’re almost done getting Yoongi-hyung’s statement.”Now he was just talking gibberish. He’d finally lost it. Too many days without proper sleep or a decent meal and he was imagining things. Taehyung knew Yoongi wouldn’t be giving any statements any time soon. Maybe never again.“I don’t know how it’s going. We’re still not allowed to see him.”He was getting sick of this façade. If Namjoon was going to play pretend so he could cope with everything that was going on then he could do that on his own time. Taehyung didn’t want to be subjected to it as well. He knew what had happened and he had tried to take his life because of it. Apparently he couldn’t even do that right.“He still needs the tube in his throat so he can’t speak. He just writes it all down but he hasn’t got proper motion back in his hands so it’s a slow process.”This was just a façade, right? Namjoon was just playing pretend, wasn’t he? Because he sounded remarkably sincere. He even sounded like he might be trying not to cry and he was squeezing Taehyung’s hand so tightly that he couldn’t really feel his fingers anymore.Yoongi couldn’t have woken up, right? The world didn’t work like that. He didn’t deserve that.“But Donghyun says that this could be the decider. If Yoongi gives them the truth then they have nothing on you. It’ll be over.”Taehyung’s eyes snapped open. Yoongi was awake. He had to be if he was giving a statement. His hyung was awake. And that meant that he, Taehyung, could be awake too. Then they would all be awake together. And that was good. Together was good.“Tae?”He could see Namjoon’s face. It was blurry and foggy and a lot thinner than he remembered it being but it was definitely Namjoon.“Oh my God.”He wanted his hyung to hold him. He wanted him to hold his whole body, not just his hand. He wanted to be hugged and kissed and loved and told that everybody was going to be okay because Yoongi was awake and Taehyung was awake and they were all awake together.“Help! Help me!”But he didn’t want help. He wanted Namjoon. Not nurses. Namjoon. Just Namjoon. And then Jin and Hobi and Jimin and Kookie and then Yoongi. Definitely Yoongi. Because Yoongi was awake and Taehyung was awake and they were all awake together.“It’s okay, Tae. It’s okay.”And then Namjoon was scooping him up in his arms and he could only half return the embrace because one of his wrists was still cuffed to the bed frame but his free hand clung to the back of his hyung’s shirt and he burst into tears.“It’s okay, Taehyungie. Everything’s going to be okay.”And Taehyung knew that this time it was true because Namjoon smelled of cheap cologne. Not expensive cologne. Not Myungsoo’s cologne. Namjoon’s cologne. And absolutely no breath mints.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Oh, God, I’m going to kill you,” was the first thing Jimin said as he flung himself across the hospital room and ensnared Taehyung in his arms. Namjoon climbed off the bed from where he’d been sitting against the pillows with his little brother leaning against his chest and let Jimin take his place.“I’m sorry,” Taehyung whimpered, burying his face in his hyung’s neck and latching onto the front of his sweater with the hand that was still impaled with an IV. His other had been uncuffed after Sejin had made a fuss but it was bruised and scratched and hurt like hell. “I didn’t know what else to do. I’m so sorry.”Jimin pulled back, taking Taehyung’s sopping face in his hands and holding it steady while he stared the kid directly in the eye, fiercely blinking back his own tears.“I don’t care how bad it gets,” he said. “I don’t give a fuck if you are living on the streets with one leg and an empty wallet and someone’s just kicked dirt in your face. You never try to kill yourself, do you understand me? That is not okay. That will never be okay no matter what your situation is. Promise me that you will never pull a stunt like this again. Promise me, Kim Taehyung, because we almost lost you as well as Yoongi-hyung and I can’t … I need you to promise me.”He looked almost frantic and it was then that Taehyung realised for the first time how much the others had gone through these past weeks. He had known Namjoon had been to hell and back, that was obvious from the way the exhaustion dripped off his face, but he hadn’t realised how traumatised Jimin was, too. And he would do anything to take that trauma away.“I promise,” he sobbed, nodding pathetically and not even caring that speaking felt like his vocal cords were ripping each other to shreds. “I promise, Chim. I promise.”They didn’t stopped clinging onto each other until Donghyun walked in almost two hours later.Sejin was with him and Jin just behind, his entire figure just deflating at the sight of Taehyung’s bony cheeks blushed with rosy red spots from his crying. He stumbled forwards and enveloped the younger boy in a hug so tight Namjoon had to remind him that Taehyung was still injured and fragile.But Taehyung didn’t mind. He’d have done anything to ensure Jin never let him go again.“Kim Taehyung,” Donghyun addressed the room at large and they all frowned at the unnecessarily formal greeting. They had known Donghyun long enough to be on a first name basis, not a full name basis.Taehyung just nodded, shrinking slightly into Jin’s side and tightening his grip on Jimin’s hand as Namjoon rose to his feet, questioning eyes locking with Sejin’s.“On behalf of the Seoul legal district, I would like to sincerely apologise for the treatment and suffering you and your loved ones have endured over the course of the trial regarding the attempted murder of Kang Myungsoo and Min Yoongi.”By now, Taehyung was almost frightened. Almost. Because he could have sworn Donghyun was trying not to smile as he stood by the doorway, his hands clasped behind his back.“Following the testimony of one of the victims in question, Min Yoongi, the case has been reviewed by the committee and the jury and I am delighted,” now he was definitely smiling, “to present you with your official exoneration documents.”He pulled the file out from behind him, holding it up with a triumphant grin plastered over his face. For a long time, everybody was silent. Taehyung, Jimin, Jin, Namjoon and Sejin, all just frozen waxworks in a hospital room as they processed the information they’d just been handed.“Hang on a second,” Jin suddenly croaked, and Taehyung could feel his hyung’s grip on him tighten. “Exoneration? As in … As in he …”“Kim Taehyung,” Donghyun repeated, transferring the file into his client’s violently trembling hands. “All charges against you have been dropped. Kang Myungsoo is in custody, awaiting trial for obstructing the course of justice, domestic abuse and attempted murder. You are free to go.”  “Oh my God …” Jimin whispered, turning to Taehyung with his eyes wide and his mouth open in stunned surprise. “Oh my God … Oh my God …”And very slowly, the O shape his lips had created began to flatten, the edges stretching out until he was beaming so brightly that the sun gave up.“Oh my God!”He threw himself onto Taehyung, arms wrapped around his neck and lips peppering his hair with kisses. Tae’s throat hurt like crazy and his chest felt like it was being crushed but he wouldn’t have let go for the world.He was free. No more handcuffs. No more police. No more corrections officers. No more cells. No more cold mattresses and blankets that were too small. No more. Ever again.“Wait a minute,” Namjoon cut in and they all raised their heads, concern creasing each expression as they tried to comprehend what could possibly be the matter right now when everything was perfect. “Does that mean Yoongi-hyung testified?”“It does indeed,” Donghyun confirmed, inclining his head as he rocked backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet, positively glowing with pride.“So that means the police don’t need him anymore?” Namjoon shot back and Taehyung finally realised where he was going with this.“That is correct.”“So we can see him?”“Whenever you’re ready.”Taehyung couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Just a few days ago, he’d hung himself. Now he was surrounded by three of his members – touching them, hugging them, crying with them – and the other three were here in this hospital and he was allowed to see them. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. But it was.“I want to be discharged!” he demanded, reaching for the IV in his hand and ripping it free with a hiss of pain. “Get the papers! I’m going now!”“No, Tae, stop!” Jimin cried, grabbing hold of his friend’s injured hand and pressing his finger to the tiny dribble of blood sourcing from the spot where the cannula had been extracted prematurely.“Taehyungie, you need to stay here,” Sejin soothed, speaking for the first time since he’d entered as he settled himself on the edge of the bed and took Taehyung by the elbows, expression stern and orderly. “You were seriously injured three days ago. You have to remain under observation.”“I don’t care!” Taehyung shouted and by now, he was almost crying with frustration.The last time he had seen Yoongi, his hyung had been cradled in his lap as he jerked and convulsed in a pool of his own blood. After more than a month of pure torture, the only thing standing between him and the one person he wanted more than anything to embrace was his own manager.“I need to see him!” he begged tearfully. “Please … I have to see him. I have to … You have to let me see him.”“He can have a wheelchair, right?” Jimin suddenly piped up from where he’d curled around Taehyung from behind, trying to rub the comfort back into his shoulders. “He can go as long as he’s in a wheelchair surely.”There was a brief moment where the only sound was the heart monitor, projecting just how fast Taehyung’s vital organs were working in his desperation to escape his disinfected prison. Namjoon and Sejin seemed to be conversing through telepathy as they stared at each other, the leader imploring the manager with every ounce of influence he had.And Sejin finally conceded.“I’ll get the doctor.” --------------------         Taehyung could tell Jimin wanted to run ahead, that he was desperate to the point of insanity to set his eyes on Yoongi and so he told him to go. He watched Jimin sprinting off down the corridor and ordered Namjoon to push him faster as Jin, too, broke into a steady jog.Jungkook was waiting for them in the corridor and by then, no one could stop Taehyung from staggering out of the wheelchair and throwing himself upon the maknae. Sobbing, clinging, repeating apologies and words of love, they must have looked like children but Taehyung didn’t care.“Come on,” Jungkook whispered, pulling back and snaking his arm around his hyung’s waist. “He wants to see you.”Taehyung nodded, sniffling pathetically, and shuffled forwards on legs that still felt too wobbly to take his weight. But Jungkook was there, keeping him steady and grounded as he pushed open the hospital room door.Jimin and Hoseok were already in there, Jimin’s body blocking Taehyung from getting a proper look at who lay in the bed. But at the sound of the second youngest’s whimper, Jimin moved aside at once and Hoseok squeezed the papery hand resting against the bedsheets, pointing to the door with a smile on his face.Yoongi turned his head, slowly and sluggishly, and Taehyung wanted to scream at the sight of the tube protruding from his neck and the terrifying lack of colour to his face. There was a huge dressing stretched over the side of his head, the hair having been shaved in that particular area to make way for the surgical incision, and Taehyung could have sworn he could see a dent in what should have been a sturdy skull.He reminded himself that they had cut into the bone and removed a disk in order to let Yoongi’s brain swell without killing him. And it just increased the temptation to throw up that was steadily growing inside of him.But then Yoongi’s lips formed the word “hey” and even though no sound came out, it was music to Taehyung’s ears.He staggered forwards, already sobbing profusely, and sank into the chair Jimin pushed underneath him as Yoongi reached up with both skeletal hands and framed his little brother’s face, smiling weakly. I’m sorry, he mouthed and Taehyung could do no more than shake his head in dismissal before he was pressing his ear to his hyung’s chest, desperate to hear that steady heartbeat that was conveyed by the machine beside him and yet needed to be confirmed to help him truly accept that this was Yoongi he was hugging.He felt his hyung’s hands stroking his hair and he dug his fingers into the hospital gown, unable to stem the flow from his eyes as he whimpered and whined and let out every single suppressed emotion he’d pent up inside himself for the past five weeks.Somewhere off to his left, there was the click of a camera shutter but it wasn’t until later that he found the Tweet Jin had posted; the picture of his head on Yoongi’s chest as his hyung caressed his greasy hair and the caption below that read: 7 - 1 = 0. It took a good twenty minutes before he managed to sit up, oblivious to the cramp in his shoulders and back that his slumped position had brought him, but ecstatic to see that soft smile still playing on Yoongi’s colourless lips.There was the crinkle of a wrapper from the other side of the bed and he looked up to see Hoseok tipping a breath mint into his hand, slipping the packet back into his pocket as he raised the white capsule to his mouth.“Hyung?” Taehyung whispered croakily and Hoseok looked up, eyebrows raised and mint still halfway to his teeth. “Can you throw those away?”There was a split second where Hoseok frowned at him in bewildered confusion before he just seemed to accept that this was something Taehyung needed. He leant over in his seat and tossed the sweet into the trashcan, the entire packet following soon after.“No more breath mints,” Taehyung whispered to himself as he returned his attention to Yoongi whose eyes were now only half open as he fought the urge to fall asleep. “And no more expensive cologne.”